


Eternity

by rhapshie



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-16
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-21 09:28:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 66,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2463326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhapshie/pseuds/rhapshie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>High school graduation; Shishido Ryou made the absolute worst decision by leaving Ootori Choutarou shattered. Seven years later, he stands face to face with someone― something he doesn't know he had created.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning of the End

**Author's Note:**

> This is a collaborative work with the lovely Emoriyin on tumblr. I couldn't have done this myself!

Since he was a child, Ootori had always believed that the end of a story meant finding a true, everlasting happiness that could not be replaced by any other thing. He thought that maybe when he became the world’s greatest musician – maybe when he had married the person he loved the most, maybe with two kids to accompany him till the end of his life – maybe then, he would be happy. Maybe that constituted the end of his story.  
  
In every story, there are chapters; the bookmarked, dog-eared pages of major events in ones life. Their first steps, their first words… Their first love.  Cruising through life at Hyōtei Middle School, Ootori realized on a tennis court that the chapter of his first love had come to write itself into his book.  
  
But not once had he thought that the end of his story with the person he loved would be filled with bitter and painful memories. After all, aren’t all fairy tales supposed to finish with one in the arms of the other? Had he simply been naïve to believe in that?  
  
Ootori had always been a crybaby. He’d cry when he attended classical concerts, he’d cry when he came across abandoned animals, he’d cry when he lost a tennis match. He’d cry at the end of every book and movie. Considering this inherent behavioural pattern, it was probably funny how Ootori didn’t cry when he’d thought his story together with Shishido Ryou had ended. In the place of tears, he discovered an unfathomable fury, igniting every bone in his body and scorching his skin.  
  
“What are you saying, Ryou.” It was more of a statement than a question. Ootori’s fists trembled. Smile. He had to smile. Lips tight, the corners taped to his ears, he smiled. ‘No. It’s a lie. It can’t be real.‘  
  
After all, they’d been so happy in the past three years.  
  
But instead of refuting his words, all Shishido Ryou gave him was a sharp gaze that twisted Ootori’s stomach. When no response came after several minutes, Ootori ventured an actual question. “Are you saying that… All the time we’ve spent together has been a lie?”  
  
“… Not all of it,” Shishido replied, eyes cool as his words. As though nothing coming past his lips was particularly out of the ordinary. “If it wasn’t for our tennis, I wouldn’t have accepted your confession.”  
  
Mentally, Ootori reared back. “Then, you were worried about our doubles partnership? You… You thought that if you rejected me, I would break down and bring our play down a notch or two? Was that all you were worried about?” His voice shook. He wanted to cry. He didn’t want to cry.  
  
Usually tears would come, but this time, they didn’t—and Ootori wasn’t sure whether he was grateful or not.  
  
“You don’t have the mettle, Choutarou.” Shishido shook his head. “I knew and understood the consequences if I said no back then, and I still do now. I didn’t wanna risk our position just because of a trivial matter like that.” The brunette scratched the back of his neck and his eyes darted up to Ootori’s. They were fond, but immensely patronizing. “I was thinking about you, too.”  
  
 ** _I was thinking about you, too._**  
  
“I see,” Ootori let out a chuckle, which took Shishido by surprise. “You were thinking of me, huh…” In an instant, his smile faded and the residual shine in his brown eyes vanished. “If you think honesty would have hurt me more than a lie, you’re wrong, _Ryou_.” Saying Shishido’s name without the habitual ‘san’ was pretty odd, all things considered, but Ootori was going to have to get used to it if this was the person Shishido had been all along. No use wasting honorifics. “I might not be the strongest person, and it might have taken me a while to come to terms with rejection, but I would’ve respected your response regardless.”  
  
Subconsciously, Shishido’s eyes narrowed. “Well, at least I said it now! I value our friendship and that’s why I decided to break it off right now before everything got worse–”  
  
“How exceedingly considerate of you.” Ootori intercepted with a tone that dripped ice before his senior finished his sentence. “If you had valued our friendship, you should have told me this sooner.” He took a step backwards, shaking his head. “Do you know how painful it is, Ryou? Do you know how hurtful it is to realise that everything that we’ve done was a lie, be it in some form or another?”  
  
“Choutarou—“  
  
“Do not even start!” Ootori raised his voice, making some people start to look their way. “Not after all that! I can’t believe I thought so highly of someone like you. You’re pathetic, Ryou.”  
  
“Me? Pathetic?” Shishido laughed sarcastically and raked a hand through his hair, frustrated and clearly agitated. His heated glare was the one usually reserved for their opponents on the court. “ _You’re_ the pathetic one, Choutarou. You couldn’t even tell that my affection for you had been fake. You know nothing about me, so stop talking like you do.”  
  
To Shishido, those had [ _probably_ , _hopefully_ ] been empty words that he used to push back Ootori’s fury. He had always been the rash and defensive sort, more so than anyone else Ootori knew.  
But to Ootori, it was his entire world crashing down on him. Having spent five years with Shishido, he had considered the brunette the most important person in his life; he would even go as far as to say that he’d thought of him to be family. Ootori had cherished Shishido, and had invested all he had as a person into his relationship with him. Ootori loved him.  
  
To be told that their relationship had been a farce from the very beginning was too much for Ootori to handle.  
  
“Take that back, Ryou.” Ootori muttered. When Shishido’s silence stretched on, Ootori lost his temper. “TAKE THAT BACK!” He yelled, as anger got the better of him.  
  
Infuriated at being pushed into a corner in a public place, Shishido’s pride burned and he snarled at Ootori. “What is there to take back?!” He shouted, fists clenching. “The three years I’d spent with you were, by far, the worst experience in _my entire life_!” He rose his voice to talk over Ootori, compensating for his lacking height. “So I’m gonna say it once more. You know nothing about me! If you hear me right this time, then get outta my sight!”  
  
Silence.  
  
Ootori wondered absently if this was it.  
  
More silence, and an unrepentant, “Tch… Gekidasa daze.”  
  
 _Fine_.  
  
With his fists clenched, Ootori turned his back on Shishido and left. Truthfully, from the bottom of his heart, he had hoped that Shishido would come after him. That Shishido would call his name once more, that he would apologise, that he would beg that they could remain friends. If they had been as close as he’d thought they were, Ootori was sure that it would have happened.  
  
But he’d guessed wrong.  
  
Because nothing of the sort occurred. Even after he’d left the school grounds, Ootori couldn’t hear the familiar sound of Shishido’s light, quick footsteps following him. When he’d paused outside the convenience store that they frequented on the way home to look back, no one was there. When he’d put his earphones in his ears but left the music off while waiting for the bus in case a familiar “CHOUTAROU!” filled the air behind him, no one was there. When he passed by Shishido’s house on the way to his own and the shadows on the curtains of the brunette’s played out a romance scene that he was an outsider to, Ootori belatedly realized that what he had with his senior was over before it had even begun.  
  
And that was the moment when his tears started falling.  
  
He hated Shishido for having done this to him, but more importantly, Ootori hated _himself_ for believing that he had a chance with him. Of course, he’d seen Shishido getting intimate with some of the girls from his class, but he’d ignored it at the time.  
  
He’d trusted him, had always trusted Shishido-fucking-Ryou, and as dictated in every romance novel Oshitari senpai owned, Ootori’s trust had come back full-circle to bite him.  
  
\---  
  
Even after a few days, there was no word from Shishido. Ootori had palmed his cell-phone nervously in his bed, hoping that he would receive words of apology. But nothing ever came. He had _loved_ Shishido – he had poured every part of himself into the relationship, had devoted himself to making sure Shishido was comfortable and secure in the relationship. Thinking back, Ootori remembered how the brunette had initially looked unsure about the whole thing in the beginning. But try as he might, Ootori couldn’t remember when he’d stopped noticing the disgust in his senior’s face. Maybe he was blinded, or maybe Shishido was just an awfully good actor – Ootori wasn’t entirely certain which of the theories were worse.  
  
Either way, he now knew that giving his heart to someone was the worst decision that he had made in his life. If he hadn’t done that, maybe the ending of their story would have been slightly better. But there was no rewriting a chapter that had already been closed.  
  
Thus, the requiem of a burnt first love began with a letter of resignation to his university and a plane ticket to America.  
  
And definitely no tears.


	2. *Drops the Bass*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THERE’S A TIMESKIP, BUT SHISHIDO IS STILL TRASH, BASICALLY, AND NOTHING GOES BETTER WITH TRASH THAN PROJECTILE VOMIT AYYY

_[Seven years later]_

  
For the eighteenth time that night, the brunette sighed loudly. He placed the glass of whiskey coke down on the bar counter, the ice inside clinking together as he did so. He leaned back on a cracked, leather seat, arms limp by his side, feeling his eardrums vibrate due to the thundering beat of the music and reverberations of people stomping on the dance floor.  
  
“How long are you gonna be like this?”  
  
“Shud’ap,” He mumbled, although it might’ve been too soft for a nightclub. He just didn’t have any remaining energy left in him to make himself audible to the male sitting on the opposite side of the table. After half a song without any reaction from his friend, he sat forward and downed the contents of his glass. “Aaargh!” He groaned loudly, slamming an empty glass down on the table and messing up his hair with his hand in frustration. “I just don’t get why she would dump me like that!”  
  
“This is the third time I’ve heard you say it, Ryou. I’m getting kinda tired.” His friend, Azusa joked. “Well, guys like you bite the bullet in romance all the time; you can just find another girl.” He finished his own drink and refilled their glasses. “Besides, she wasn’t even that sexy.”  
  
“All you look for is a pretty face and a good lay,” Shishido Ryou chided in disgust, a little bitter about the ‘guys like you’ comment. But before their conversation could progress further, he could hear the high-pitched shrieks from the females on the dance floor accompanied with the clacking of frantic high heels. Out of reflex, he straightened his back and turned his face to the source of the noise to see a man in black suit, staggering, bottle of alcohol in one hand while the other shakily motioned for everyone to make way.  
  
“Not again,” Shishido groaned. “There’s always that one asshole who’s too drunk for his own good in this place.” The brunette rolled his eyes and picked up his glass. “Every time I come, there’s always at least one.”  
  
“Well, this is a pretty big club… I’d imagine stuff like this happens at a daily basis.” Azusa laughed in amusement upon seeing the obviously drunk man, with his head down smashing onto the tables around him. However, his laughter faded when the man headed their way subconsciously. “Hey Ryou, he’s coming over here. Wanna make a move?”  
  
Shishido tsked irritably, but he turned his chair around and prepared to shift tables. However, before he could do so, the man in the suit had a sudden burst of speed in his gait and fell down right onto the brunette’s lap, his bottle of alcohol shattering on the ground. Even worse, his side pounded against the low table at their booth, and in a flash, the remaining whiskey Shishido and his friend had was gone as well.  
  
Icing on top of the cake? This guy spewed.  
  
He basically projectile vomited all over Shishido’s clothes and jeans, before a bouncer held both of his arms and dragged him off the disgusted brunette.  
  
“What in the fuck…” Shishido grunted as he stood up, completely grossed out as the remains of this stranger’s dinner and too much alcohol dripped down to the floor and he himself, wanted very much to throw up at that moment.  
“I- I’m very sorry for what happened!” A blond ran up to him bowed in front of Shishido. “He’s a friend of mine who had a little too much to drink!”  
  
“Yeah, I’ll fucking say,” Shishido growled angrily, before he lifted his eyes, followed by an accompanying eyebrow in spite of himself. Her blonde locks and fair skin… Blue eyes. “A foreigner…?”  
  
Her accent was quite thick and it was quite clear that the blonde herself was extremely distressed, not knowing how to react in such an awful situation. “Here’s a handkerchief to clean yourself up. I’m very sorry!”  
  
Snapping back to his senses, Shishido snatched her handkerchief and started wiping the worst of the mess off. Talk about bad timing – he’d just endured a shitty break-up. “An apology isn’t gonna cut it!” He yelled over the music, gesturing to his soiled clothing. “Look at what your friend did to me!”  
  
“I’m very sorry!” She apologised for the third time, looking exceptionally guilty. “I’ll… I’ll pay for a cab!”  
  
Shishido grunted in response and glared at Azusa, who wasn’t even trying to cover his laughter at the predicament anymore. The foreigner also apologised to the security guards, and placed some bills to pay for the alcohol and a service charge for her friend’s poor behaviour in the establishment, before they left the nightclub as a unit.

Outside, Azusa helped to hold up the woman’s drunken friend, while Shishido had to bear a few minutes with bottom half of his shirt and upper half of his pants completely ruined. It was hands-down one of the worst moments in his life. He sat in the front seat of the cab and brooded while his friend sat on the back along with the two strangers. The foreigner had to apologise a couple more times before Shishido was able to calm down a little. They exchanged names.

“This is his first time back in Tokyo, after seven years,” Silvie explained with soft voice. “I’m going back to London, while he’s come back from America to work.” She turned to the drunken man and sighed, shaking her head. “We worked together for a period of time… It’s hard to believe that someone as capable and composed as he is is actually a drunk at nights.”  
  
“And a smoker to boot,” Shishido muttered as he wound down the window of the cab. Mr Hardcore in the back reeked of cigarette smoke.  
  
After a little fresh air, the man in the suit groaned, slowly regaining his consciousness. “Silvie… Where’s ‘dis?” He mumbled as he straightened his back.  
  
“Ah, don’t force yourself to get up, Choutarou!” Silvie panicked. She gently took the man’s shoulder and made him lean back on the seat again. “You’ve had way too much to drink!”  
  
Choutarou.  
  
America.  
  
First time back in seven years.  
  
Shishido’s eyes snapped open and he turned his head to see a man with too-wild curls and too-brown eyes and too-red skin, but unmistakably the Ootori Choutarou. His silver hair fell messily over his forehead—definitely longer than Shishido remembered it. His tie was undone, as were the top two buttons of his white shirt. As they passed by a truck with bright yellow headlights, Shishido also glimpsed the trademark rosary dangling idly off his neck, resting between his collarbones.  
  
As Silvie tended to one very confused, very inebriated Choutarou, Azusa attempted to tend to him. “Oi, Ryou. What’s wrong? You’ve spaced out for a full minute now.”  
  
Shishido pointedly ignored the words of concern from his friend, instead focusing on the foreigner. “Hey, did you just say… Choutarou?” Although he was a hundred and ten percent sure that it was the Choutarou from his high school life, he wanted to be a hundred and twenty percent sure. “Choutarou!”  
  
But the probably-maybe-he-really-looks-like-him-fucking-damn-shit-hella-FUCK Choutarou didn’t respond. He was once again fast asleep.  
“You know him, sir?” Silvie glanced at him, curiosity in her eyes.  
  
“Mm,” Shishido muttered noncommittally, fixing his sight back on the road. His apartment was getting closer, and he soon signalled for the taxi driver to stop.  
  
He would have been lying if he’d claimed to never wonder how his former best friend was doing, and more often than once, he’d wished that everything had ended better. Ootori had played a big role in his life, and as much as he hated to admit it, he did miss the guy’s chirpy presence.  
  
“Ah, Shishido Ryou-san… Was it?” Silvie asked. She had one arm around Choutarou, while the other had his wallet flipped open in his hands. A small piece of paper with an address scrawled on it was neatly slotted in the display pocket. She squinted for a moment, before she unlocked the door and got out. “I believe this is where Choutarou is getting off as well… what number is your room?”  
  
‘Hell, no.’  
  
Shishido froze, and suddenly he had the worst possible outcome playing his head. He remembered putting out an advertisement that he wanted to share his apartment, as the rent was pretty pricey. Since it was located conveniently near the police station, shopping mall, train station and numerous restaurants, someone had quickly snatched up the apartment on behalf of a friend. Shishido vaguely remembered the movers saying that the actual tenant was only coming over in a week and a half, but… Choutarou couldn’t be his new roommate… right?  
  
“It’s number 723,” Shishido responded softly. ‘Of course not.’ His mind supplied. ‘Don’t be retarded, Ryou. The world’s a big place.’  
  
Silvie blinked. “That means… You’re his roommate?”  
  
NO.  
  
IS NO AN EMOTION?  
  
BECAUSE SHISHIDO FEELS IT.  
  
NO.  
  
Shishido could feel his heart clogging his throat, and all he wanted to do was turn back time and shred the advertisement he’d put out to pieces. He’d learnt today that seeing Choutarou’s face filled him with mixed feelings, and Shishido didn’t like having mixed feelings. Seeing as how he wasn’t quite sure what those feelings actually were to begin with, what would living with Choutarou result in?  
  
“That’s great!” Silvie exclaimed, contrary to Shishido’s horror. “You know him, Shishido Ryou-san! It’s great that he would have a friend as a roommate.” She beamed as Shishido’s friend struggled with Choutarou’s weight getting out of the cab. “What a coincidence!”  
  
It was a mighty good thing that he had his back facing the cab, so that none of them could see his facial expression, which was an unhealthy mix of confusion, terror and foreboding. After their friendship ended in dispute followed by seven years of no contact whatsoever, this was way too much to take in for a single night.

Shishido bit on the nail of his thumb and thought about this as rationally as he could. If… If Choutarou had been the man he was before the fight, then the chance of Choutarou realising that the fight had, indeed been very stupid, was high. If his anger during graduation had only been temporary, which Shishido hoped it was, then they might have a chance to fix what they’d lost back then.  
  
His thoughts were suddenly interrupted with an abrupt weight on his back. Azusa had unceremoniously dumped Choutarou’s weight on him without prior warning, wearing a shit-eating grin. Shishido scowled at him. “He’s in your hands, you unlucky bastard,” Azusa spoke with mock sympathy and amusement, and it only took a minute before Shishido was left alone, cab in the distance and drunk on his back, to take Choutarou up to his apartment.  
  
Their apartment.

* * *

Shishido couldn’t remember how long he spent that night just staring at Ootori’s sleeping face. The chubbiness on his cheeks had mostly disappeared, his jaw was longer and more defined. But aside from those two aspects, nothing else had changed. Sure, he had grown a couple of centimetres—maybe he’s hit 188, but definitely not more 190, like Kabaji used to be.

Before he had taken a seat at the foot of the bed, Shishido had stripped Choutarou of his suit, leaving him in only a white shirt and black boxers, although it both were crumpled and messy. He didn’t dare do anything further than that.  
  
Nervously glancing in the direction of Ootori’s bag, Shishido tried to find a sign that he’d continued to play tennis even after they separated. However, he couldn’t spot anything remotely shaped like a tennis racket or a tube of tennis balls. After putting Choutarou’s belongings neatly by the window and his hand-carry on the desk, he just sighed.  
  
Shishido stood up and once again glanced at his former partner. He was still fast asleep, and the brunette was grateful that Choutarou hadn’t woken up. Needless to say, Shishido was dreading the moment where he had to actually have a conversation with his new flatmate, but he knew that time waits for no man, the moon would wane, morning would come and they would inevitably have to exchange words.

Thinking about the possibilities of what was going to happen wasn’t going to help him sleep; he knew that. So it was with this knowledge that he tried his best to take his mind off it, and although it was painfully hard, he managed to get some sleep.


	3. Atobe is STILL a Hot Piece of Ass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ALSO PERSONALITY OVERHAULS ARE HOT LIKE AMIRITE

The problem with sharing a loft apartment in Shishido’s complex was that there was only one bathroom. So when the brunette woke up, with his mind completely blank, he opened the door and saw a tall figure hunched over the sink.  
   
Oh shit. He thought.  
   
He looked back at Shishido, every strand of his silver hair flowed freely following his motion and the look he had etched on his face was absolutely… Ghastly. One hand still braced on the sink, he wiped his mouth using the other. His gaze was ice cold, inspecting Shishido from the tip of his bed head down to his toes. While Shishido had somewhat expected a surprised remark, all he was greeted with was a silent scoff. Ootori turned off the faucet and wiped his face with the towel, not looking at Shishido.  
   
Might as well kick-start some kind of conversation. “Choutarou-” Shishido started.   
  
Ootori didn’t even turn. “Don’t,” He replied sharply, “you _fucking_ call me that.”  
   
Any residual hopes of reconciliation were shattered in an instant. Shishido froze. He hadn’t expected to hear something like that coming from Ootori’s mouth, considering they’d spent seven years apart. Still unable to comprehend what just happened, Shishido numbly stood still in a daze till he felt a strong arm shoving him away from the door.  
   
“You’re in the way.”  
   
“I—!” Shishido abruptly said, before he straightened his back and coughed. “I’m sorry. About… Back then.” And also blocking the door, although he didn’t add that.  
   
Ootori laughed. To anyone else, that little chuckle would have sounded alive with mirth, but Shishido knew better. His new roommate was plain pissed. “Seven years too late, Shishido.” He said before he picked his water bottle up from the dish rack and filled it with some iced water. “Any amount of apologies mean nothing to me, coming from you after all this time.”  
   
This was the worst outcome that Shishido hadn’t even considered. While he was certain that their initial interactions would be rough around the edges and edged with a little awkwardness, he definitely didn’t anticipate such a drastic change in Ootori’s attitude. This Ootori, silent and cold, moving about the apartment at his own pace and behaving as though Shishido didn’t actually exist, was a complete stranger. Shishido didn’t know how to approach him. Not anymore.  
   
Because of that, he said nothing. Did nothing. More like, Shishido didn’t know what to say or where to even begin. At the crux of the matter, the brunette knew that he had done nothing wrong all those years ago. He’d told Ootori the truth regarding his feelings back then, and was it so wrong to try and protect what had been important to them in the past? And after all those years of no contact whatsoever, Shishido had hoped that Ootori would snap back to reality and understand that his fury had been melodramatic, and entirely unnecessary.  
   
Speaking of reality. By the time he’d returned to his own, he realised that the front door had been shut, locked, and that Ootori had left.  
   
For a little bit, Shishido stood rooted to the spot, wavering between accepting and denying what had just happened.   
‘What a way to start everything off.’ He walked to the balcony and spotted Ootori, in a casual blazer and tanned pants, hailing a cab. He crossed his arms on the railing and watched as the taxi drove off into the distance.   
  
After a few minutes of staring into space, Shishido clenched his fists and straightened his posture. If that was how Ootori wanted to be, then Shishido would just stick to having a distant roommate relationship with him as well.  
   
Maybe it wasn’t the optimal room-sharing condition, but it was the only one that made sense to him anymore.  
 

* * *

  
   
After paying the driver, Ootori closed the cab door behind him and faced the _massive_ building in front of him.   
  
‘As expected,’ he chuckled to himself.   
  
He ascended to the elevated lobby and the automated doors parted, allowing entry. The interior of the building was obviously well maintained, and he could see men and women of all ages in suits with briefcases in hand. All chatter was carried at a low volume, and everyone seemed to carry themselves with impeccable grace and businesslike reservation.  
   
Ootori checked his watch. ‘Ten thirty.’ He looked to the marble reception desk that stretched across the length of the first floor. ‘ _Maybe I’m a little too early.’ Not that he’d mind._  
  
 _He was about to proceed to the counter when someone approached him._ “Ootori Choutarou-sama, isn’t it?” A brown-haired female dressed in black, with knee-length skirt and short heels greeted him politely. “You’re here for the appointment, I believe?”  
   
Ootori smiled sweetly. “Yes. I’m around half an hour too early, though. Is it really alright if I meet him now?” He looked concerned as he glanced at his watch again. “If he’s occupied, I can wait until the right time.”  
   
“No, the boss had expected you to come early, he said.” She responded gently. “Please follow me; I will take you to his private office.”  
   
Ootori let out a sigh and smiled, running a hand through his curls. “Of course.”  
   
The lift was located in the centre of the building, which Ootori found quite fascinating. It was also made out of glass so that visitors could see the entirety of the building—and in all honesty, it was quite a breathtaking view. Well, not that he had expected any less of an internationally recognized corporation.  
   
They arrived at the 48th story in the blink of an eye, and Ootori was led into an elegant room that reminded him of an old Victorian styled study. It was well ventilated and furnished, and the wall-to-wall windows were framed with dark curtained that filtered away the glare of the sun. He didn’t bat an eye when he saw who was sitting behind the desk made of the finest gloss wood he had ever seen – only smiled.  
   
“Well, well, if it isn’t Ootori.” The man seated before him smirked.  
   
“It’s been awhile, Atobe-san,” Ootori gave him a smile. “How have you been?”  
   
“I’ve fared well. Please, have a seat,” Atobe gestured to the chair in front of his desk, which Ootori calculatedly pulled back to allow more space for his long legs to rest comfortably. “Coffee or tea?”  
   
“Tea, please.”  
   
“White?”  
   
“Please,” He said once again with a polite nod. With that, Atobe’s assistant disappeared to the other room.  
   
“How has America treated you?” He asked, resting his face on his hand. “The experience was rewarding, I assume?”  
   
“It was definitely an interesting contrast to life in Japan.” Ootori confessed with a chuckle. “I, um… I didn’t quite know how to adapt to the party-college life.”  
   
Atobe cocked his head as though asking what a college party entailed, but Ootori wasn’t about to go into that. “Was it that difficult to settle in?” His former tennis captain asked.  
   
Ootori shook his head. “It was a little overwhelming at first, but spending four years in that kind of environment can really get to you… And not really for the best either.” Ootori laughed sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. “And three years working in the company with the same lifestyle too, especially.”  
   
“Ahn?” Atobe smirked, putting two and two together. “So even you started developing drinking habit, Ootori?” He sniffed delicately and cocked his head. “Smoking too? Not something that I would expect from someone like you.”  
   
Ootori let out a chuckle muffled behind his hand. “Well, as a matter of fact, yesterday was the third time I’ve gotten so drunk to the point that I got kicked out of the nightclub,” he confessed, slightly red-faced.  
   
Atobe’s distaste was literally emanating from his person, but Ootori just smiled a little shyly.  
   
“I never asked for this kind of lifestyle, Atobe-san. I was just too quickly, and suddenly, exposed to all these things – not to mention in large quantities.” Ootori’s body dipped to the side as he rested his elbow on the arm of his chair. “And I didn’t have a family to control me over there, or a friend to stop me from doing anything foolish. If anything, the peer pressure to adopt these habits was too overwhelming.” He spoke evenly, as Atobe’s assistant came back with two antique cups and started pouring tea into Ootori’s, and coffee into Atobe’s.  
   
“It goes without saying that I prefer you to stop drinking and smoking, for simple health reasons. But then again, so long as it does not affect your performance in the office, it’s not my place to say anything where it comes to your personal life,” Atobe said, slipping his index finger to the handle of the cup and sipping carefully from the rim. “And how do you find Tokyo, after parting from it for so long?”  
   
“It’s rather nostalgic…” Ootori sighed, stirring the milk into his tea with the provided spoon. “It feels like only yesterday that we played tennis together, Atobe-san.”  
   
Atobe placed his cup back on its saucer and looked at Ootori, no longer smirking.   
  
‘Here it comes,’ Ootori braced himself mentally.  
   
“Have you heard anything from that Shishido?”   
  
Ootori, who had his cup half in the air, sighed again and placed it back gently on the saucer, like Atobe had done a few seconds ago. “No,” He replied neutrally. He tried hard to keep the anger he had for the aforementioned brunette at bay. “Seven years, and not a single thing.”  
   
Of course, Ootori wasn’t planning on telling Atobe that he was now sharing a loft apartment with his ex-boyfriend (what a joke), because ever since that day seven years ago, everyone had seen Shishido in a different light—and not exactly a better one. Ootori had wondered about the state of affairs between Shishido and the rest of the old Hyōtei Tennis Club, but if the brunette hadn’t even kept in touch with Atobe, then the chances of him having talked to anyone else were pretty thin. ‘Who actually cares,’ Ootori’s mind supplied.  
   
“You’ve gotten over it, haven’t you, Ootori?” Atobe’s voice snapped him back to reality.  
   
Ootori blinked, then chuckled lightly. “Of course. I can’t spend my life agonising over him, can I?” He let a smile bloom on his face once more. “When was the last time you heard about, or from Shishido, Atobe-san?”  
   
“Three years ago,” Atobe muttered, leaning back on his leather chair. “When he graduated from university, I heard that he’d taken a coaching position at a middle class tennis association, but he never once contacted any of us. Gakuto and Jirou excluded, most likely.” Letting out a frustrated sigh, Atobe shook his head. “I never took him for someone as low as that, to be perfectly honest.”  
   
“Well, it’s all in the past now, Atobe-san.” Ootori responded softly. “I’m sure we’ll see him again one way or another,” he added.  
   
“You’re probably right,” Atobe said, looking oddly pensive as he drained the remaining coffee in his cup. “Do you have any plans for today, Ootori?”  
   
“I had originally planned to visit Hiyoshi-kun today, but I heard he’s quite busy with the martial art championship coming in a week. So I think it’s best to hold our meeting until after that’s over.” Ootori finished his tea as well. “But aside from that, I have nothing else scheduled for today.”  
   
“What about dinner tonight? I need to catch up with you, and of course discuss your position in the corporation.”  
 

* * *

  
   
“Sensei!”  
   
“O-Ou!” Shishido responded as soon as his brain finally came back to planet Earth. “W-what’s wrong?”  
   
“You’re spacing out! I just did a perfect serve and you missed it!”  
   
‘Again?’ Shishido grumbled. As expected, the whole Choutarou thing was taking a toll on him. It was almost impossible to concentrate when his mind wasn’t exactly in the right place. He was busy making up scenarios, preparing some kind of witty response to any of the statements that Choutarou could shoot his way. The Choutarou that was currently present in his life is the one that Shishido wants the least, after all.   
  
He hadn’t known the extent of Choutarou’s affection towards him back then—all of the times they’d kissed, all of the times they’d touched or exchanged the three words, had been real for Choutarou – but it hadn’t been for Shishido. Of course, there were times he wished he could move back in time and reject him flat in the beginning. Maybe things wouldn’t have turned out to be as disastrous. Maybe if he had been honest with his feelings from the start, he would at least have the courage to keep in contact with his old teammates now.  
   
But then again, it really, _really_ wasn’t his fault that the aftermath of their relationship was this. It had been for the good for the tennis team. Although Choutarou had said that he wasn’t as weak as Shishido had made him out to be, he knew that if he’d rejected his kohai’s confession, they would lose something that could never be recovered. Had he been wrong to prioritise tennis above anything else at the time? In doing that, he had also been helping Choutarou. After all, the singles-centric Hyōtei tennis team had been in dire need of good doubles players.  
   
“What’s wrong with you today, Ryou? You’re totally out of it.” His friend, Jinpachi, sat down next to him and placed his tennis racket at his feet. It was their long-awaited break. The tennis association Shishido currently worked at was quite known in Tokyo, so it was natural for one coach to have around five students every day. Unlike working behind a desk, it was a _damn_ exhausting job with a multitude of responsibilities, but it was rewarding both in coin and spirit to Shishido.   
  
“Hnn,” Shishido hedged.  
   
“Things aren’t doing so hot between you and your friend?” Jin joked. Shishido tensed upon the accuracy of his guess. “Oh. I was right? Nice guess, Jinpachi!”  
   
Shishido let out a long groan before he took off his hat and held his head in his hands. “It’s a long story! But it’s not exactly wrong to say that we aren’t getting on well at the moment.” He unscrewed his water bottle and dumped the remaining contents on his head, groaning at the icy cool relief. He wiped his face on his sleeve. “Either way, I’m really not looking forward to facing him again tonight.”  
   
“Knowing you, you were probably the one who fucked everything up, right?” Jin rolled his eyes, unlatching the lid covering his own flask of tea.  
   
“Look Jin, it wasn’t me!” Shishido denied quickly. “He’s just too damn sensitive for his own good! All I wanted to do was to keep us playing tennis together and conquer nationals!” Shishido wrenched his cap in his hands and sighed heavily. “I had good intentions, but he got mad at me for it.”  
   
“Jesus Christ, calm yourself!” Jin laughed out loud. “Besides, what good will it do, bitching about it? Go get a woman and plough the tension out of your system!”  
   
“You talk as if girls can solve everything.” Shishido grumbled, obviously getting fed up by his friend’s lackadaisical attitude. But then again, it was hard to find someone whose personality didn’t annoy him. He scrunched up his empty plastic bottle and threw it to the recycling bin next to him. “One more student then I can go home!” He pumped a fist in the air in attempt to stretch.  
   
“Hey, do you know Youko-chan, my student? That raven-haired one! I think she’s got the hots for you. Maybe, you can y’know, try to _Youko_ her _Ono_ —“  
   
“Shut the hell up, Tatsuya!” Shishido shoved his hand onto his face, only to be followed with howl of laughter. “That is literally the shittiest pun I’ve ever heard on Yoko Ono’s name, and I’m really not in the mood for that today.  
   
“God damn it, admit it was funny,” Jin screeched as Shishido crushed his face between his palms. “It was fucking funny!”  
   
“Okay, it was a little funny,” Shishido admitted, before he glared at his friend. “But only because it was so lame.” He released Jin and smacked the back of his head. “Why don’t _you_ go and get yourself a girlfriend if you’re so into it, huh? As far as I’m concerned, the girls only come to me and not you!”  
   
“OW! Now you said it, Ryou! That was a low blow!” Jin protested, rubbing the back of his head with a piteous look. Shishido would have retorted, but the coaches were called back to the courts for their next student and they resolved to put the argument on hold till tomorrow.  
   
Thanks to Jinpachi, Shishido had loosened up enough to refocus on his work, and actually played a quality game with the last student of his for the day. It felt great to finally concentrate and not think of Choutarou for one goddamned hour.


	4. Actual Aberrant Titan Choutarou

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That day Shishido received a grim reminder up the ass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!TW: NON-CON in the middle of the chapter!!!  
>  From this chapter on, I'll be working alone instead of collaboratively.

Shishido always takes the bicycle to work and back home. Not only it helped him to warm up or cool down, he loves the smell of the fresh air at night. Of course, the tennis club where he works at doesn’t have the best air taste or anything as it was connected with one of the busiest roads, but the apartment where he lives was still pretty much untouched by pollution. Thank the gods for that. It was getting way too difficult to find someplace that has somewhat breathable air these days.

He sighed. That day had been such a bad day for him. He couldn’t keep his concentration span for more than fifteen minutes due to everything that occurred out of the blue in his life. Seven years after no contact whatsoever, Choutarou came crashing like that—of course anyone would be surprised if the same thing happened to them. And to be perfectly honest, he was quite shaken by the look and treatment that he received this morning. He had never seen those eyes on his former partner before, despite having been sickeningly close with him for so many years. And more importantly, he had never heard him swear in his life. Ever.

Shishido shivered when breeze of wind suddenly blew and he let out a small sneeze. It was getting quite cold—mid autumn, after all. Maybe he should consider wearing a scarf, or at least something more than a thin t-shirt and shorts next time so he won’t catch a cold like he did last year. That was pretty lame.

After parking and locking his bike on the space provided in the apartment’s carpark, the brunette travelled inside until he reached his place of residence. He had to take a deep breath before unlocking the door to his unit. Expecting Choutarou to be present, he closed his eyes, heart pounding like mad. However, when he regained his sight back, the room was pitch black, showing no sign of any living being. He let go a breath that he didn’t realise he was holding and he stepped inside, turning on the light in a flick of a finger.

Shishido went to the bathroom and started preparing his hot shower before going to the kitchen, putting his apron on to cook dinner. Of course the thought to serve dinner for two crossed his mind for a split second, but it’s not like Choutarou had done anything to earn it ever since he crashed there. So he quickly pushed that thought aside.

His mind suddenly wandered off to the time where he decided to cook for Choutarou in his place. What was it again? Beef casserole? No, no it was chicken roulade. He remembered seeing his absolutely flabbergasted expression. Sure, no one ever expected that the rough and reckless Shishido Ryou would have quite a knack for cooking. All things savoury, that is. As a matter of fact, he worked as a chef in a restaurant for a while before he got his job in the tennis club. But it was way too stressful for his liking. The head chef was way too bossy and just couldn’t stop screaming in his ears.

Waiting for the beef to tenderise in the pot, the brunette stripped off his clothes and stepped into the shower, turning on both the hot and cold taps at the same time and kept on adjusting them until he soothed himself under the warm shower. He let the comforting liquid to drip down his entire body, washing off the thoughts from the morning as he ran his fingers through his wet hair.

Shishido got back from his thunder-quick shower and gobbled up his dinner. When he heard the door being unlocked, he had finished eating dinner and was washing the dishes. He heard shuffling noises, shoes being placed onto the floor gently and even the sound of the faint footsteps behind him. Shishido didn’t dare look back. His heart was pounding.

_Calm down, Ryou. You decided to play it cool, right? Don’t get so nervous now._

He heard the balcony door getting unlocked, cool autumn breeze blowing into the living room as a result. Not long after that, he smelt smoke.

Shishido turned his head to see Ootori leaning his back on the balcony fences, cigarette between his fingers. He was looking up the sky as smoke escaped from his parted lips. Of course he wasn’t particularly fond of the smell, or the taste. He tried to smoke one stick around four years ago and coughed it up right away, wondering how exactly people find such thing addicting.Regardless, he couldn’t complain, as he technically wasn’t smoking inside the room. That, and he doubted that he still had any right to tell his former partner to stop slowly killing himself.

He threw himself on the sofa, turning on the television although he was sure he would never be able to concentrate on whatever program was airing.

He tried to ignore the male in the balcony but he failed due to the direction in which the wind blew that night. Slightly disturbed, Shishido let his curiosity got the better of him and he decided to question, “Since when do you smoke?”

Ootori took a deep breath with the cigatette between his fingers before he chuckled darkly. "It's amazing that you're still interested in my life.” He grunted, turning his back on Shishido and proceeded to lean his stomach on the fence instead.

Ticked off, he decided to spat out, “Look, Choutarou. I don’t get why you’re still so angry at me after all this time. If you think about it rationally, I was just trying to be a good senior and support your tennis career. Why did you have to make my good intent seem like it’s vile?”

“Good intent…” Once again, he chuckled softly before bursting into the most sarcastic laughter Shishido had ever heard in his entire life. He rubbed the cigarette on the fence and then dropped it to the floor before he walked inside the living room, only stopping when he’s right in front of Shishido. “If your idea of good intent includes shattering the heart that I’ve given you to hold,” He paused to lean his face forward so that they eyes met, “then you can just shut your mouth.”

Shishido’s breathing became quite short and he unconsciously buried his back deeper into the sofa.

Then he felt a massive impact—kicked by Ootori, the sofa jumped for a split second. His hand jabbed forward to grab Shishido’s shirt. He jerked him forward until nose could touch nose. “And don’t you dare call me by the first name. I don’t want to hear it coming from you.”

A vein popped.

Shishido grabbed the other male’s hand, and then dug his nails into it until he could see him wince. Didn’t even say anything, Shishido swung his right hand to meet Ootori’s cheek. The impact was deafening.

“Let me go.” He hissed. He wasn’t about to get told off by someone younger than him, and not when he _knows_ that he was doing the right thing.

Blood dripped from the corner of Ootori’s mouth, and he moved his tongue to clean it. Oh, it hurt. But he was convinced that nothing could hurt more than an utter betrayal that he had experienced. Instead of loosening his grip, he looked back into Shishido’s eyes with more intensity, this time.

Shishido had never thought that a pissed off Ootori Choutarou could be scarier than anything he had ever seen in his life. He could literally feel his knees shaking when he met those monstrous eyes of his. He knew that he had made the worst possible decision just a few seconds ago. However, Shishido Ryou hates being wrong. Instead of apologising, he looked right into Ootori’s hazel eyes, matching the intensity of his glare.

“If you think that can scare me off, you’re wrong.” He hissed. “I’m not the foolish young boy who you can exploit any longer. I can, and will stand my ground, Shishido Ryou.”

Smoke. He could breathe in smoke in every word that his former partner spat. He could hear bitterness and anger. There was absolutely no trace of the old Choutarou who he used to be sickeningly close with.

Ootori yanked Shishido forward by the shirt and threw him down to the hand rest of the sofa, face first. The brunette groaned upon the sudden impact, but he didn’t have much time to fight back as he felt a weight on his back, followed by a large hand grabbing him by the hair, pulling his head back so that his ear was located on a close proximity with Ootori’s lips.

“’It’s not my fault’,” The silver haired male hissed. “Is what you think, isn’t it? Your arrogance knows no bound.”

With full force, he pulled Shishido off the sofa until his feet met the floor and smashed his cheek on the cold glass of the coffee table. Hands still gripped tightly on his back, Shishido couldn’t do anything because he knew that Ootori would, with no hesitation, break his arms.

 _It’s not my fault._ His brain echoed. _Nothing that happened is my fault._

He let out a pathetic grunt when Ootori unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers in a flash as if he had done it a lot of times before.

“W-what the fuck are you doing?! Let me g—“ Shishido protested, followed by a loud screech. Ootori had tightened his grip on his wrists, ready to twist them even more if needed to. “Ootori, please! I—I’m sorry okay?! Just stop it!” He panicked when the other male tugged his boxer with such a force that he thought it would rip immediately.

“Your apology always come too late, Shishido. And they’re never sincere.” He said with deep, raspy voice that Shishido wouldn’t imagine coming from his former partner. “Have you heard of karma?” He continued. “You played with me like I never mattered to you. Isn’t it just time for someone to pay you back a hundred fold?” Ootori threw a rhetorical question as he pumped Shishido’s cock.

“Y… You wouldn’t do something like this…” Shishido said. “The Ootori Choutarou I know wouldn’t…”

From behind him, Ootori snickered, repeating the most hurtful word that he heard seven years ago, recited by his senior. “You know nothing about me, Shishido.” He then sunk his teeth on the brunette’s neck, hard enough to make Shishido grunted in pain; hard enough for blood to start flowing.

Ootori didn’t care whether Shishido was erect or not. He left his member unattended and proceeded to place a finger on his hole.

“Stop! Ootori, stop—!“

However, he didn’t. The silver haired male pushed his finger deep. As expected, it was tight. Shishido had never done it with another male, which provoked even more anger in him. Those three years really had been a lie—Shishido didn’t love him even for a second.

Gritting his teeth, Ootori forced the second finger inside, and the third only in a matter of seconds. The amount of resistance was overwhelmingly high, especially without any sort of lubrication. Ootori didn’t care. He was much too furious to care about the other’s well-being. Seven years’ worth of anger was poured at one moment as he withdrew his fingers to undo his own jeans and place the tip of his cock on Shishido’s half-ready entrance.

“OOTORI, DON’T!” He cried out, practically begging him to stop. However, in the midst of his wrath, Ootori couldn’t hear a single thing, not even Shishido’s loud demand and apologies. It was as if he sealed his ears, focusing solely on the seven years he spent shedding tears for their broken relationship. He focused on the seven years he felt empty, alone and utterly unneeded. And as he vividly recalls every moment he felt misery, what he was doing right now cannot even compare.

With that corrupted mindset soaking into every inch of his being, he rammed his cock into Shishido’s hole.

Shishido couldn’t even describe what was happening. All he could feel was constant agony from having a foreign something inside of him. It was torturously painful—every thrust and every movement, all he wanted to do was cry but of course he found it impossible to. Every time his body was pulled back and thrown forward, he would scream in pain. He clenched his fists so tightly that he could quite literally feel his nails digging into the skin of his palm, almost ripping his skin. No matter how many times he cried for Ootori to stop, he wouldn’t listen. He didn’t react a single time or even lower his pace.

Of course it was painful. Not only for Shishido, but also for Ootori. The muscles gripped around him so tightly that it made Ootori wanted to hiss in discomfort again and again. But he didn’t. Disturbed by his own lack of emotion, he jabbed his hand forward to grab on Shishido’s hair and pulled them roughly to follow the rhythm of his hips. At this rate, blood was already dripping from the brunette’s ravaged hole onto the floor, and smeared on Ootori’s cock. It was a mess. The velvet liquid trickled down after mixing with sweat. But not even that could stop him from having his way with the man who had hurt him the most.

Everything finished when Ootori could feel a jolt along his erection and he emptied his load in Shishido. He took one deep breath before pulling his cock out of his former partner, whose breathing was uneven and ragged, his face on the glass of the coffee table and hands finally free, but palms bruised and scarred.

Not even saying anything, Ootori pulled his trousers back up and zipped it immediately as if nothing has happened.

Shishido was left in the living room with the TV still on, and he didn’t move. Steam was formed on the glass as a result of his heavy breathing. His backside was throbbing with pain and even without looking at it, he knew that he was bleeding.

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to grasp the fact that Ootori had been blinded with seven years’ worth fuming rage and decided to blow everything at one moment. Shishido knew that it wasn’t the end of it, as much as he wanted it to be

Once again, he clenched his fist, ignoring the stings because none of it could compare with the pain that suddenly resides on the corner of his heart. He slammed the table with such a force that made the TV remote in front of him jumped.

“Choutarou…” He whispered. “What the hell happened to you?”

* * *

 

As soon as Ootori closed the door behind him, he turned his back and leaned on the wooden frame before he sunk and sat on the carpet, head tilted up to face the ceiling with such a blank expression.

He grinded his teeth against each other in frustration and brought his head down. “Dammit!” He grunted as he smacked the door with his hand. He hadn’t planned to assault the brunette like that, of course. But meeting him after so long, just to know that he hasn’t changed a single bit made his temper go absolutely haywire.

Of course he didn’t enjoy even a second of their intercourse. There was absolutely no love involved in it, and Ootori obviously hadn’t planned to make Shishido feel good. If anything, he wanted to hurt him.

Ootori sighed and placed his hand on his cheek, the one which Shishido had struck.

For a split second, he could feel guilt. But he quickly shut it out as he thought that there was no reason to be if Shishido didn’t even feel like he did something wrong. He had always been a stubborn one, but it was unbearable for Ootori now. Despite the fact that he knew that he had ruined his life, not a genuine apology was put forward and nothing was more infuriating than that.

“It’s time you open your eyes, Shishido…” Ootori stood up, dusting his trousers and unsteadily walked towards his desk where a few bottles of alcohol were sitting. He grabbed one that was already opened and gulped a large quantity. “I want you to have a taste of what you let me swallow.”

* * *

 

Shishido wobbled into his room, crashing through the door; his backside was killing him.  He didn't quite make it to the bed— with his pants still half-zipped up, the brunette dropped to his knees, one hand on the edge of the mattress.

He desperately needed to talk to someone to help him snap him back to reality because he could feel himself slowly being driven to the edge of insanity. Sure, he was fine just a few moments ago. But once the thought that he was the one who made Ootori like that seeped into his brain, he couldn't take it anymore. He was right. He made the right decision. There is absolutely no way that he made the wrong choice by deciding to end everything with Ootori.

Gakuto... Gakuto...

Shishido managed to lift himself a bit before starting to blindly search for his phone hidden under the bedsheet. But before he found what he was looking for, he stopped.

Huh?

How long has it been since he last tried to contact the readhead?

How long has it been since he's contacted anyone from the tennis club at all?

Jirou... Jirou!

Shishido remembered that Jirou was the one who suggested him to rent this apartment unit that he was living on. Although it was a month or so ago since they last talked, he knew that Jirou lived somewhere in the same floor as him. Was it... 725? Yes, it was 725! It was exactly two units away.

The male quickly sprang to his feet and half-ran towards the door with his body hunched down. Every step he took, pain shoots throughout every fibre of his being. He was no longer sure whether it was physical or psychological. Nor that he had any capability to understand what just happened or was happening.

He pulled the door and left it half-closed. Literally dragging himself to reach Jirou's unit, he panted loudly.

"Jirou!" He smacked the door. "Jirou, open the door!" He banged impatiently. “Please open the doo—“ Shishido stopped.

He remembered that Jirou had left for a business trip two weeks ago and will only be back tomorrow night.

Defeated, he dropped and leaned his back on the wall behind him. He wanted to scream out for help, he wanted someone to tap him on the shoulder and tell him that everything’s going to be fine. Although he knew damn well that nothing would be alright, he desperately needed the emotional support.

“Goddammit,” He muttered in desperation. “Jirou, please let me sleep there for the night…”

Unbeknownst to Shishido, an eye was watching him from the other side of the door. It stayed immobile for a long period of time, as if trying to predict what he was going to do next.

Clutching the pillow tight in his arms, he whispered.

“Ryou...?" He narrowed his eyes; it was exceptionally rare for his friend to come running to him like that. In fact, never once did he try to attempt conversation with him for the past few years. It was always Jirou's initiative, and frankly, he was surprised by his willingness to keep the friendship alive between them, unlike Gakuto. The redhead had stopped trying to contact Shishido whatsoever for a few months now. Silently gauging his options, the blond  thought back to the times where Shishido would never reply to his texts or return his missed calls when he needed him the most, and how he would laugh it off and apologise afterwards, saying how he didn't have the time. Jirou knew clearly that they were all just lies that he had put forward as an excuse. He then shook his head and somberly whispered, "I don't think you understand what friends are for, Ryou..."

He moved away from the door slowly, leaving Shishido hugging his knees outside of his residence.


	5. Jirou, You CAN'T Just Break Into my Unit and Steal my Pocky Like That

_It was the first day of winter._

_The bell indicating the end of club period rang just about ten minutes ago and now the street was busy with chitter chatter of the high schoolers who were rushing to go home, but Hyotei High’s tennis club only just wrapped up their session and was in the middle of packing up._

_"Thank you, senpai!" The first year expressed his gratitude loudly while he hunched over to pick up to box of tennis balls near the bench of the court._

_"It's nothing," Ootori smiled sweetly_ — _seeing the liveliness of the first years is definitely one of the things he loves the most. After all, there were a lot more who complained because most of their tasks were to pick the balls lying around. Unlike other clubs, the freshmen in Hyotei gakuen were lucky enough to receive coaching in various incourt skills. "Do your best, Takeshi-kun."_

_His smile grew and he cheerfully replied, "I will!"_

_"Oi, Choutarou," a familiar voice became audible, and he turn his head. Behind him, a certain brunette stood proud with a signature blue cap covering his hair, arms crossed. "You're being too nice to the freshmen."_

_"But...!" He pursed his lips together. "It's important to make them feel secure and included in the club, Ryou-san..."_

_"Choidasa daze," He muttered while balancing his green-framed tennis racket on his index finger. Until now, Ootori still has no clue how Shishido could accomplish such trivial-looking task. "Come on, pack up and get changed. It looks like it's gonna rain soon," He continued._

_"Yes!" Ootori smiled, following his doubles partner's footsteps._

_As per usual, they walked into the clubroom to see Jirou already got changed and was draped over Kabaji's shoulder. One time he fell asleep while walking home so it seemed like Atobe no longer wished to tempt predicaments and had been dropping him to his house ever since. Gakuto was talking about what sounded like... natto juice? (Ootori constantly worries about his redheaded senior and his natto obsession) And Yuushi shaking his head in utter disgust over the idea._

_Shishido and Ootori quickly got changed to their usual school uniform and excused themselves._

_"What's with the thick-ass scarf, Choutarou? It's only the beginning of winter." Shishido complained although really it wasn't any of his business. But being a Shishido, of course he would comment on everything he possibly could._

_"I catch cold easily..." Ootori smiled sheepishly while tugging on the cream-coloured fabric around his neck. "Aren't you cold, Ryou-san?"_

_"This is nothing," He rested his head on his hands as they walked along the road._

_Ootori's phone suddenly beeped in his pocket. He slowly pushed his hand into his pocket to pull his phone out. However, before he could even look at who sent him the message, Shishido snatched it almost as quickly as his Dash._

_"Who texted you?" He grinned mischievously. "Are you cheating on me, Chou? Is this a girl?"_

_"Give it back, Ryou-san!" He lunged forward to grab what was his but Shishido swiftly covered Ootori's eyes with his palms, leaving him muttering "aaah!" With his arms flailing uncontrollably trying to find his phone._

_"Let's see..." he whistled, trying to maintain his balance with Ootori's constant movement next to him, slowly pushing him over. "Ah_ — _!" The brunette groaned when his foot betrayed him and he slipped to the side; his back hit the wall and Ootori's arms beside his ears. "Oh, uh..." he started._

_They stayed still in that position for a while, maintaning eye contact while lips stayed immobile._

_After a pregnant pause, Ootori slowly and gracefully leaned in. He wasn't sure how long he took to gradually move himself closer to his boyfriend, nor did he think of the consequences overlaying his action. But after no resistance was made, he could feel softness against his lips._

_The kiss was slow, sweet and innocent. There was no passion mixed in it. He pressed his lips against Shishido's further and he could feel his heart pounding in his ribcage. Shishido's breath smelt like mint gum and Ootori could feel his lips trembling under the contact._

Ootori hated how vividly he could recall their first kiss like it was just something that happenned yesterday. He hated how he could still feel the stiffness of the concrete wall under the length of his lower arms, how he could feel the roughness of the half-healed cut on Shishido's cheek as his hand caresses it, how he could smell the mint on the air, how he could hear the soft groan that escaped from his throat, how Shishido tugged on the sleeve of his blazer as if restricting himself from enjoying the moment.

The silver-haired male clenched his hand into a fist and smashed the wall beside him before he sunk to his knees.

"Go away," He whispered, covering his face with his hands. "LEAVE ME ALONE!" He raised his voice, hoping that the memory from back then would disintegrate and never surface up again.

He placed his hand on the carpet, shoving the empty bottle of alcohol by accident and it rolled— it rolled and stopped on the abandoned yellow racket in the corner of his closet.

Ootori didn't remember when exactly he started drinking to try and forget about Shishido and his shattered heart. All he knew is that every spring, at the exact same date as when Shishido decided to throw him away like an old toy, he would drink excessively. He would drink until he could no longer feel the anger and tears. He would drink until he could no longer comprehend what was happening around him. And every single time he would find himself lying down in the corner of the road, or the bathroom of his apartment, before throwing up

And he would wonder if Shishido ever does the same too.

* * *

 

Shishido's feet were rooted to the ground upon seeing a male with small-figure and strawberry-blond coloured hair sprawled on the sofa. He was snoring lightly with three boxes of empty Pocky— banana, blueberry and strawberry on the floor.

Besides, those Pocky are his! And how did he even get inside?!

"Oi, Jirou!" He called out, shaking his sleeping beauty of a friend.

"Mmm..." he mumbled before he stretched his arms and his entire body. Then, he relaxed and eyes slowly opening. "Ryou..." Jirou said.

"Don't 'Ryou' me!" He complained. "How did you get inside?!"

"Balcony's unlocked." He retorted softly, still half asleep.

"So... you jumped from your balcony to the next balcony and then to mine?" When Jirou nodded, Shishido groaned in disbelief. Jirou is truly a wonder. “And to top it off, you ate the three boxes of Pocky I bought?”

“Well, they were lying around in the fridge and they looked so lonely! I couldn’t resist…” He answered loudly, eyes wide open.

"Can't be helped," Shishido groaned, scratching the back of his head as he threw himself on the sofa.

"Hey, hey Ryou-chin! How's your new roommate?" Jirou crossed his legs, eyes sparkling with curiousity. "Is he suuuper friendly?!"

"F-friendly..." The brunette sighed, trying his best to push the image of last night away from his mind. "You can say that, I guess... but that's not important!" He suddenly raised the volume of his voice. "And you, how was your uhm, trip?"

"It was boring," Jirou opened his mouth and let out the biggest yawn. "I had to work a lot..." He pouted but soon the look on his face turned sunnier once more. "I really wanna meet your roommate! What's his name?"

"G-geh..." He scratched his cheek, not knowing how to answer the very specific question. "He's... asleep right now! Better not wake him up. Uhm, that guy's really cranky in the morning." Shishido answered nervously, not even mentioning his name. "Anyway, what will you be doing during the weekend? Are you going to spend your time with this 'secret lover' of yours?"

"Yes!!" Jirou fist-pumped the air. "I'm gonna sleep a lot in my secret lover's place! And I will be bought lots and lots of pocky!!" He grinned upon saying the perfect idea of his date. "Ryou-chin will be spending his time with his girlfriend, right?!"

"We k-kinda broke up..." He sighed.

"Then you can spend time with your roommate! It's always good to build a healthy relationship!" Jirou exclaimed in excitement, seemed to be fairly taken by the idea of Shishido's new mystery roommate.

All Shishido responded with was a nervous laughter which he hoped didn't sound suspicious even a bit.

"Ryou! I'm gonna borrow your toilet!" He suddenly jumped and ran off before Shishido could even say anything.

But relieve soon washed over him when he heard the sound of door opening, followed by soft footsteps. Quickly, he ducked his head so that he is well-hidden behind the sofa.

He heard the fridge being opened and water being poured, then gulped in an instant. Shishido prayed so that Ootori would soon leave or go back to his room so Jirou wouldn't get to see him. He then heard another set of footsteps which he assumed was Jirou and the brunette was about to lose it when he got closer...

Then he heard the door being closed. Ootori had left and Jirou had returned at the same time. The timing couldn't get any better.

"Huh? Your roommate left?" Jirou walked towards the sofa and saw Shishido hugging his knees. "What are you doing, Ryou?"

"N-nothing!!" He quickly denied. "Yeah... it was VERY unfortunate that he had to leave before you meet him..." He laughed nervously. "He's... such a sweet guy too..."

"Ryou's acting weeeeird," Jirou pursed his lips together. "Ah! Do you wanna go to Gakuto's sweet shop today? I planned to go to Marui's but Gakuto said he's releasing a new cake and he wanted me to try it!"

"Huh, right now?" He asked.

"Yes! Go get changed quickly!" Jirou exclaimed, followed by Shishido nodding.

The smaller male watched Shishido as he left for his room, and even when he closed the door to his room, Jirou didn't stop staring at the door.

"Ryou-chin's new roommate..." He muttered, narrowing his eyes. "Could it really be him..." He contemplated about the matter for a few moments. Shishido's unwillingness to answer his questions about the new person now living with him was odd enough, especially the way he had switched the topic like he didn't want to talk about it, and how he didn't mention his name. Jirou had somewhat suspected yesterday that he really is who he thought he is, due to the way Shishido had begged for him to open the door and how he sat in front of his apartment unit for a long while. And Shishido's reaction today did nothing to prove him wrong. "Is it really him?"

Jirou's mind started to put the pieces of puzzle together. Although it was still incomplete, he could now start to see the truth behind his wild guess.

"Chou-chan...?"

* * *

 

Shishido sighed as he stripped himself out of the plain blue shirt he wore for the night. His heart was still pounding due to the close call that had occured with Jirou and Choutarou. He wouldn't know how to respond if the narcoleptic male discovered the identity of his new roommate, but for now everything seemed fine.

He caught a glimpse of himself on the small mirror on his desk and he could clearly see the bite mark between his neck and shoulder. He gently ran his fingers along the length— it had stopped hurting, yet the memory from last night hadn't.

Shishido's expression hardened as he laid his eyes on his palms where he could see marks where his nails had dug yesterday before clenching them.

What if he deserved the treatment he received last night?

What if what Choutarou had said about karma was right? He knew he had hurt him significantly and maybe... maybe that really was his payback for the things he had done.

Shaking his head as if it would help him take his mind off the matter, he quickly got dressed and left his room.

* * *

 

“I said no,” A certain bespectacled male with Kansai accent said sternly. “No means no,” He said once more, putting his hand to a good use in order to block another pair of hands currently holding a chocolate profiterole.

“But Yuushi!” The redhead whined, insisting to shove the sweet inside his friend’s mouth. Of course, he knows that the blue-haired individual didn’t like sugary food but he wanted him to try the profiterole that he made with his own hands. “I made it myself!”

“Gakuto, you fed me three slices of your new cake as well as five flavoured macarons. I’m afraid I’ve had enough sugar intakes for the day.” This is exactly why he hated wasting his break time to go and drop by Gakuto’s because things like this _always_ happen.

Mukahi Gakuto and Oshitari Yuushi—the two had pretty much been inseparable ever since junior high. Although they’ve also had their fair share of friendship drama, both of them worked them out eventually due to Yuushi’s calm and collected attitude. Even after they graduated from high school and attended separate college, and now work in two different industries—medicine and food, they still meet up quite often to catch up. And of course, they still play tennis during the weekends in the street court. Sometimes they’d play against any doubles pair on spot and not too rare also, they would play against Atobe and Jirou pair although they’ve pretty much maintained their undefeatable streak.

“Aaaah~ mm!” Jirou leaned forward and covered the entire shape of the profiterole with his own mouth, Gakuto’s fingers included. “’sh sho gooood!” He jumped in excitement.

“Oi, Jirou!” Gakuto complained, withdrawing his hand in an instant and wiped it on his pants. In the corner of his eyes he could see Oshitari sighing in relief, for the first time grateful for Jirou’s presence. But he decided not to comment on it as soon as he laid his eyes on a certain figure standing behind the narcoleptic, over-excited male. “Ryou! What the hell are you doing here?”

“Haa?” Shishido scrunched his eyebrows together. “The great Shishido Ryou was considerate enough to pay you a visit and that’s all you give him?”

“Well, I mean I haven’t heard from you in like, what, five months? Kinda thought you were dead already!” Gakuto raised his voice as Jirou sat on the chair opposing him and nabbed another profiterole.

“Gakutoooo~” Jirou whined. “Where’s the cake you wanted me to try? I want it quick! Oh, Ryou-chin will have some too, right?"

"Ehh?" He let out a groan, wondering since when the shorter male had the authority to decide for him.

"Ah!" Oshitari exclaimed. "My break time is over! I have to head back to the hospital," he continued. "Good to see you again after seven years, Shishido." The blue-haired individual smiled and Shishido hated how he still couldn't make out if it was a genuine or a sarcastic smile.

"Ou," He nodded.

Oshitari then tapped him on the shoulder. "It's about time you come back to us, Shishido. Keep in touch." He whispered softly, taking him aback.

For others, they might take Oshitari's statement as a kind invitation. But for Shishido who could vividly see his expression, he knew that his tone was brimming with impatience. Maybe at last they've had enough of his silence for the past years. But Shishido simply couldn't bring himself to contact anyone aside from his old friends, Gakuto and Jirou. And even then, he is reluctant to keep them close.

After everyone discovered what big of an argument he and Choutarou had gotten into, especially after he told them the story behind it all, they gave him this accusing look— as if everything was his fault and Hiyoshi would have laid a punch on his face instead of the wall, had that Atobe not told him to calm down.

He couldn't stand the looks on their faces so he avoided them. But of course he didn't know that all this time, they've been waiting for him to come back.

"You should get in touch with Keigo soon, and Wakashi."

Shishido nodded quietly and he didn't turn his back to see Oshitari leaving. Maybe he really should settle everything with his high school friends before he loses them like he had lost Choutarou.


	6. Can u Not

Echo of someone being thrown off balance and fell right onto the firm wood flooring constantly boomed throughout the day. With the martial arts championship drawing close each passing day, all members of the famed Hiyoshi family dojo were persistent in their practice, determined to be the last one standing. Despite their best efforts to aim as the dojo's number one, no one could surpass the grandson of the dojo owner.

Hiyoshi Wakashi is his name. He had been trained in Enbu since he was little. It wasn't only thanks to his natural talent that he could come so far despite his rather young age; it was also his passion for martial art. Some people may say that it had been forced onto him and how he had no choice of breaking out of the family tradition. But of course, people talk. Hiyoshi greatly enjoyed Enbu, a form of martial art that he considered to be underrated. However, due to its aggressive nature of the use of katana, there was no events such as championship ever held. As a result, he had taken lessons in judo and aikido.

"Good work, Hiyoshi-senpai!" The members said one after the other, some of his closer friends also threw him a grin and tapped him on the shoulder saying "In a good shape today too!"In which he responded with a calm smile and a humble nod.

As soon as everyone had left, he remained in the room, sitting with his legs folded, trying to further cool down.

"You're about ready for the day, Wakashi." His father said from behind him as he watched his son slowly got to his feet.

"I'll continue to do my best until then," He replied. "Any fault regarding my stance?"

"You've been holding your arms a little lower than usual, and your reaction time is slightly off." He retorted, leaving a small pause before he broke into a smile and continued, "Ootori-kun has arrived back in Tokyo, correct?"

"I'm surprised you remember." The younger Hiyoshi proceeded to take a step forward to walk out of the dojo. "But it won't bother me that I don't meet him for now. We'd have plenty of time to catch up after this championship is over."

His father let out a small laugh before and said, "Taking a little break is forgivable, Wakashi. I don't want you to put your mind to any other matter during practice. If meeting Ootori-kun will ease you up, then by all means."

"I'll be fine," He replied as he slid the door to get into another room. "I'm sure he'll come to watch the match. I'll be able to see him then."

The older male tilted his head to the side for a short while before he straightened himself back. "Suit yourself."

Hiyoshi soon reached his room located in a separate building and seated himself on the chair near his desk to grab a book to read. However, before he could reach out to the desired reading material, he heard his mobile phone vibrated on his bed. He got up with a sigh to see who was calling him.

"What is it, Mukahi-san?" He muttered as soon as he picked up. It wasn't often that he called him— most of the time, they just exchange simple texts and that's it.

 _"Waka-chan,"_ The voice behind the phone answered. It didn't sound like Gakuto, and Hiyoshi hoped that it wasn’t.

"Akutagawa-san," He said as soon as he realised who had the posession of the phone. "Why are you using Mukahi-san's phone?"

 _"Ah, I left my phone in my apartment. Not that I have any credit left,"_ He answered with the voice that signaled that he was about to fall asleep.

"What's the occassion of this call?" He asked once more, hoping that he won't get answered by snoring noise.

 _"Aaah~"_ Jirou dozed off for a moment before Gakuto's loud voice snapped him back to reality. _"Ooh! Have you seen Chou-chan lately?"_

"Ootori?" He said to himself, wondering if Ootori had told anyone about his plan to come back aside from Atobe and himself. "No, I haven't. But he came back to Tokyo around three days ago. Why are you asking me all of a sudden?"

 _"Mmm..."_ Jirou hummed. _"I’m not sure about the whole situation yet but I think it's gonna be nice if you can text him or something, Waka-chan. Seems like Chou-chan and Ryou-chin still hasn't gotten over it yet."_

Hiyoshi clenched his hand into a fist and he could feel himself grasping to the fabric of his blanket. "Did one of them personally tell you this?" He interrogated, although he highly doubt the answer to his question would be a 'yes'. His narcoleptic senior had always been sharp about things like such.

_"Well, Ryou didn't say anything but I suspect that his new roommate is Chou-chan, and well he was quite secretive about it... but it wasn't that difficult to figure out."_

"WHAT?!" The brunette raised his voice all of a sudden. "What do you mean... they're living together, while still yet to sort out their problem?"

 _"What I'm trying to say is that I don’t know how bad things are and I don’t really wanna make false assumption. I'm only 80% sure about this too... and Ryou looks pretty unhappy about the whole situation,"_ He continued. _"Ooh, and by 'unhappy' I mean him actually saying good things about this 'new roommate' of his. That's kinda weird coming from his mouth, isn't it?"_

Hiyoshi was silent for a moment, allowing Jirou's explanation to soak into his head. And by then, he could hear snoring noise.

 _"What did Jirou talk about anyway?!"_ Gakuto's voice boomed through the phone. _"That guy spoke way too softly!"_

"Nothing you need to concern yourself over, Mukahi-san." The brunette answered calmly. "If you'll excuse me," He said, hanging up before the redhead could answer.

He was about to dial Ootori when he realised,

"How am I gonna reach him without a phone number? Call Atobe-san? He has twelve cell phones, for Heaven's sake. You could've provided me with an address or something, Akutagawa-san..."

* * *

 

Not only his friends and his family, Ootori sometimes wondered why he pursued career in law instead of music.

His mother had always been flexible when it comes to her son's choice in education while his father had always been implying how ecstatic he would be if Ootori chose a degree in medicine or law. But all Ootori ever did in his leisure time was play piano, violin or tennis. So this decision of his to attend a law course in college took everyone by surprise.

It was a struggle, of course. Ootori had to be extremely persistent in his studies to avoid getting left behind. Sometimes he just feel like giving up altogether, but he really didn't want his time spent studying to be left in dust by the end of the day. His apartment had a very accommodating gym facility and swimming pool. That was how he kept in shape despite his smoking and drinking habit. As a result, Ootori completely abandoned music and tennis. Part of the reason was because his busy lifestyle. But the other reason is a man named Shishido Ryou.

_"You can actually play... this?!" The brunette raised his voice in disbelief upon seeing the mess of black ink over white paper. Sure, he plays guitar sometimes, but a proper music sheet is on a whole other level for him._

_"Eh?" The taller figure looked over Shishido's shoulder to get a clearer view of what he was looking at. "Nocturne Op.9 No.2? Yes I can..." The taller figure currently sitting on the piano bench scratched his head shyly._

_"And this one too?!" He whipped out another piece of paper from the back of the book._

_"That one is violin, Ryou-san," He giggled. "I'll play it for you, okay?"_

_Shishido sat perpendicularly on the piano bench with his legs wrapped around the seat and hands between his thighs as he watched Ootori shuffling around the music room to prepare the music sheet stand and his violin._

_He looked at Shishido and smiled before he closed his eyes and start to mold the tunes together._

_The brunette could feel the whole room vibrating_ — _he could feel his bones tingling, following the rhythm of Ootori's violin play. Shishido held his breath unconsciously with both his eyes shut. He was smiling. It wasn't like any other play he had seen on the television. The music that Ootori played was alive with emotion and passion. It was as if he was trying to convey the lyrics of the instrumental piece and engrave the chain of words in his heart._

_Needless to say, it was absolutely breathtaking even for Shishido who had little appreciation for classical music._

_Even through his closed eyes, he could vividly see Ootori’s smile. And the interpretation he received from the image in his head was a completely different understanding of the smile that Ootori always give everyone. It was almost too angelic. It was as if the smile that existed in his head was the one that Ootori would only provide to him, and him alone._

‘Could he be… playing a song dedicated to me?’ _He thought as he opened both of his eyes to reveal a tall figure standing near the large glass windows, enveloped in bright sunlight._

‘He’s smiling,’ _He whispered to himself, and his lips formed a thin smile without his consent._

_With a single sigh, Ootori ended the play._

_"How was it, Ryou-san?" He asked softly._

_"E-eh…” Shishido mouthed, clearly still in awe. “That… That was, uhm, really good, actually…”_

_“Thank you very much. I practiced a lot, after all,” He smiled sheepishly. “And not to mention my sister is quite the musician, so she would always criticise my play. I think anyone can become good if they were in my shoes.”_

_“Geez, Choutarou!” The brunette ran his hand through his messy spiked hair. “Don’t lower yourself like that! Even I could tell that not everyone can reach that level of yours. How do I say it… your music is alive…”_

_Ootori’s wide brown eyes remained on Shishido, who seemed to be much too embarrassed by his own speech. He gently placed the violin back in the case and slowly walked towards the older male with smile gracing his lips._

_Then he leaned down and pecked Shishido on the forehead._

_“If you say so, I’ll play anything for you; I’ll dedicate everything for you, Ryou-san.”_

Shishido unlocked the front door of his apartment unit and slowly opened the door, trying to see if Ootori was in the living room. It was kind of uncool avoiding him like that, but after what happened yesterday night, anyone would’ve done the same thing too.

When no one could be spotted, he sighed in relief and stepped inside. Grabbing his cell phone from his pocket, he sat on the sofa as he stared emptily at the device on his hand. However, the brunette didn’t have the chance to contemplate whether he should dial Atobe or not.

He could feel a familiar vibration in his ear, followed by the hum of high-frequency tune. It was unmistakably the melody produced from a violin.

 _‘Choutarou…?’_ He thought right away.

The noise stopped.

Then it continued again. This time with a slightly different noise.

It stopped again.

 _‘He’s tuning the violin…’_ Shishido said to himself. He could feel an indescribable sensation swirling his stomach—anticipation? That couldn’t be it. If anything, it was fear. ‘ _Just how long ago since you played, Choutarou…?’_ He cast his gaze to his socks-covered feet before placing his face on the palm of his hands. ‘ _You… didn’t give up music just because of this, right…? It was your whole life…’_

**_“If you say so, I’ll play anything for you; I’ll dedicate everything for you, Ryou-san.”_ **

He could feel his breath suddenly stopped upon remembering that one distant sentence. He bit his lower lips, trying his best to not shake.

The tune played once more, this time it continued.

Shishido couldn’t feel a thing. It was monotone. It was textbook. It was basic. There was no trace of emotion or passion that resounded within him around eight years ago. It was like listening to an unwilling individual’s performance; someone who had been pressured to learn such musical instrument. The play that he heard eight years ago was nothing at all like what he was listening to at that moment. The tune that he heard back then was refined, elated and somehow full of the joy and innocence of a kid’s heart. He could vividly see a smiling face through his eyelids and now, he could see nothing of the sort, tried as he might.

 _‘Choutarou…’_ He grinded his teeth together, not knowing where to even _start._ He could feel his heart slowly shattering upon hearing the lacklustre vibration in his eardrums. He wanted it to _stop_. “It’s not my fault,” Shishido whispered to himself, scrunching his eyebrows together in utter bitterness. “It’s not my fault, dammit…” The brunette said once more, his fingertips squeezed his forehead harder than ever. “Don’t do this, please…”

His wish was answered, although not for the best.

The initially flat music started to come together inside Shishido’s ears. Something resonated within him.

Once,

Twice,

Thrice,

He could hear his heartbeat.

“Oh, gods…” He muttered.

Through his closed eyes, all he could see was never-ending darkness; he could feel himself being pulled by the void.

The emotion built up exponentially—Shishido’s hands began to shake. The melody he heard was no longer dull nor was it dry, but that made him wanted to scream. All he could feel in him was bitterness, all he could hear was sorrow and anger. It was an odd mix of fury and lament that filled the air. He could see a fading smile, he could see withered flowers. Then an echo.

**“ _I’ll dedicate everything for you, Ryou-san.”_**

“No,” He shook his head. “Don’t,” He begged to image of Ootori in his head.

He gasped a breath of fresh air as a result of him unconsciously holding his breath. The brunette then leaned back on the sofa, lips shaking.

Even when the music stopped, Shishido stayed immobile.

Then he could hear the door clicked open—but he didn’t look at Ootori. He couldn’t find the courage to.

The silver haired male landed his eyes on a certain brunette sitting on the sofa, unmoving. Without doubt, he had listened to his violin play a few minutes ago, and the thought if it made him sick. He had played Shishido's favourite song— namely the first song he performed to him in the music room in his house. Eight years ago, he would play for his former partner almost every day— he would practice for his practical music exam and stage performance in front of him, and he would play whatever Shishido wanted him to.

Despite it being the first time in seven years he had come anywhere near his violin, he made no major mistakes— that alone put his mind at a discomfort. And the worst part of all is the fact that no matter how hard Ootori tried to play for himself, he found his heart soared back to the year he spent dedicating every piece of his performance for Shishido. Somewhere in the middle of his play, he started to reflect upon the incident seven years ago and his fingers wouldn't stop trembling.

Quickly, Ootori headed for the front foor, dipped his feet into his sneakers and walked outside.

Then, he slumped to his knees. He brought his hands closer to his eyes just to see how badly they were shaking. And despite the fact that Ootori had punched the ground with his fists until they were glowing red, they wouldn't stop trembling. With his eyes tightly shut, he hissed through his teeth and he brought his clenched hands to cover his eyes.

Why is that after all the hardship he suffered because of _that_ guy, he still found himself unable to erase the memories of him. Even after he had burnt almost of all of the reminders of Shishido that he possessed, he still couldn’t find it in him to forget the scorching fire that melted those papers and photos, and sometimes he wished he could turn back time and hold them in his hands once more. His mind wouldn’t stop replaying those three years they’ve been in a seemingly happy relationship and tried to find out where everything went wrong. Ootori _knew_ he had done nothing wrong. And he _knew_ he wasn’t mistaken when he thought that Shishido was content with him. But why would Shishido do, and say such hurtful thing to him? Why would he break the person who devoted every piece of his being towards the relationship? The more Ootori think about it, the more he feels like he was losing his mind. Because although he could feel his heart being ripped apart, he couldn’t cry. His eyes weren’t even shedding the slightest bit of tears.

The silver haired male ruffled his own hair in frustration and muttered under his breath, “Have you ever felt like this? Have you ever felt a pain so great you can’t cry, Shishido Ryou?”

Yes, Ootori Choutarou still loves Shishido Ryou. He still loves him even after what he had put him through. He still loves Shishido-fucking-Ryou.

“I want to hurt you the way you hurt me… I want to hurt you until you can’t even scream for help anymore…”

Yes, he still loves Shishido Ryou.


	7. That Escalated Quickly

A hand waved in front of Shishido's face— it had been there for a while but the brunette had still yet to acknowledge its presence. It wasn't until the owner of the hand raised his voice.

"RYOU!!!"

"W-wha...?!" He jumped from his seat, almost falling over as a result. "You didn't have to scream so loudly, Gakuto! Geez, what is wrong with you?" He said, trying to regain his composure.

"What is wrong with _me_? What is wrong with _you_?!" The redhead rested his cheek on his hand as he drank the watermelon juice through the straw. "You're like in a world of your own."

"Wasn't," Shishido protested, although he knew damn well that he was, indeed, in a world of his own.

"Was too," His friend replied sharply.

"Ryou-chin, you're awake!" Jirou opened his eyes, coming out of his slumber of deep nap and gave Shishido a signature grin. "So, so, so, is it a 'yes'?"

There was an awkward silence as Shishido stares at the smiling, overly excited Jirou. "'Yes' what?"

"Where were you the past twenty minutes, oi?!" Gakuto raised his voice one more, slightly exaggerating the time factor.

"I was saying..." Jirou sat up and shot another way-too-bright-way-too-cheerful ear-to-ear grin. "Your roommate will play doubles with you against Gakuto and I, right? Right?!"

More silence. Shishido gave his friends the blankest look that he had ever given anyone. So blank that even he knew it was blank.

"Oh, HELL NO!" Shishido roared as he stood up, knocking his chair over and slammed his hands on the wooden desk. That ruckus then was followed with eyes of disturbed guests focusing on him. "No way I'm playing with doubles with him. Not happening, nope." He added, picking the fallen chair back up and sat on it calmly.

"Why?!" Gakuto insisted. "You said he can play tennis!"

"Well, he can!" Shishido replied abruptly before he realised what he just admitted. "I mean... no, he can't! He's really bad!"

"Which one is it?!" The redhead complained, his tone of voice sounding utterly frustrated because of his friend's attitude.

For the first time, Shishido was grateful of Gakuto's dense personality and his inability to understand the tiniest hints that he wasn't dealing well with his new roommate. All he had to worry about was Jirou— his instinct had proven to be dangerously accurate. He could even easily compare Jirou's observation and deduction skill with Atobe's insight. Shishido just hoped that he hasn't thrown any major hints that reveal the identity of his roommate.

"That's unfortunaaaate," The strawberry blond male dragged his sentence. "Hey, Ryou. Why don't you wanna introduce him to us?" He continued, giving Shishido a broken kitty look. "After all those praises you sang for him, I wanna see him more than ever!"

"H-He's busy, okay? He's here for business purposes and he usually leaves the house— " Shishido froze mid-sentence and he could feel blood drained out of his body as soon as he looked over Gakuto's shoulder. A silver haired male was walking along the street with his hands stuffed inside his jacket's pocket. "Aah, shit! I'm late for work!" The brunette laughed nervously, pretending to look at the watch hanging on his wrist as he stood up. "I'll see you two around!" He said before quickly walking out of Gakuto's sweet shop, leaving the two males absolutely confused.

"Ah. He's working in the tennis club three blocks away, right?"

"Oooh!" Jirou exclaimed. "Chou-chan!!" He beamed, knocking at the large glass pane to get his attention. And it proved to be successful when Ootori turned his head, giving a legitimately surprised expression.

"Ooh, you're right! Choutarou!" Gakuto smacked his hands on Jirou's shoulders, smiling brightly behind him.

The taller male smiled sweetly and waved. He then walked into the shop to greet his old teammates. "Akutagawa-san, Mukahi-san! Good morning! It's such a lovely surprise to see the both of you."

"Still formal as usual, eeeh?" Gakuto grinned, intertwining his fingers and placed his hand behind his head. "Sit down!"

Ootori bowed deep before saying, "Thank you."

"When did you arrive?! How come you didn't tell me?" The redhead whined as he sips another mouthful of the watermelon juice. "Do you want anything? It's free, of course!"

"Ah, I'm fine, Mukahi-san. I appreciate the offer." He smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I wanted to keep my return as a surprise... The original plan was to have a group reunion as soon as I sort out business matter with Atobe-san. But I guess the surprise party failed before the flight, eh?"

"What's this? You told that Atobe but not us? I bet you told Hiyoshi too, right?" The owner of the sweet shop protested, but couldn't conceal his excitement to see Ootori back again after so long.

"I'm sorry, Mukahi-san. I didn't mean to exclude you from this." He retorted, playing with his thumbs. "Akutagawa-san-san too..."

"It's fine, it's fine!" The shortest male grinned casually. "Ooh, Chou-chan! Have you met Ryou-chin yet?"

"Shishido-san?" He tilted his head on a small angle upon the sudden question. "No, I haven't..." He clenched his hands into tight fists. "I..."

"You two haven't sorted it out yet, huh?" Gakuto cut Ootori's sentence.

"You know, Chou-chan! Ryou-chin isn't exactly the brightest or anything. He probably won't understand that he did anything wrong unless you tell him directly. If it was just anyone else, 'Shido wouldn't even give it a second thought. But you..." His cheerful expression faded slightly but it soon returned. "But you're Choutarou! You understand him the best, and 'Shido likes you the best!"

Ootori's expression stiffened as soon as the older male added that last sentence. His fists became tighter and he could feel his lips pursing together.

"He likes me the best..." The silver haired male muttered under his breath before looking up and gave his former teammates a smile. "If he treats the people he likes the most that way, I'd rather have him hating me."

As if they just saw an army of pigs flying, Gakuto and Jirou froze on spot.

"Ah, I need to meet Atobe-san," Ootori stood up. "It's nice meeting you again, senpai. Please take care." He said as he bowed politely and left.

They didn't start talking again immediately, not even after Ootori was on a safe distance away from them.

"O, oi..." Gakuto started. "What kind of expression was that?"

Jirou narrowed his eyes, and for the first time in a while, his smile faded. "Looks like things have gotten even worse between them..."

"You noticed something, Jirou?" The redhead scooted closer to his friend, talking in a half-whispering tone. Gakuto knew that Jirou tends to use his seemingly carefree attitude to trap people into revealing certain information that may not be obvious to others, but clear to him. He realised what a weapon he has, and how dangerous he can be when he wants to be. Unlike Atobe's insight, people do underestimate Jirou's brain, and that's a grave mistake.

"We need to help them," Jirou said sternly. "They can't do this on their own. Not when both of them refuse to grow up."

"E-explain to me in detail what's going on between them!" The other male spoke up, still unable to catch up with Jirou's quick thinking.

He placed his hands on the table and gradually turned his head to look at Gakuto in the eye. "Chou-chan is about to break." He said. "And if he breaks once more, not only we'll lose him for good, we're risking Ryou too."

* * *

 

Shishido finally stopped running. He bent his body ninety degrees forward and slapped his hands on his knees to prevent himself from falling over. Sweat dripped all over him to the concrete surface of the ground and his breathing was ragged due to fatigue.

He looked up to see a familiar view the park near his apartment that he always crossed during his jogging in the morning. He could hear the barking of dogs, excited voices of kids, laughter as well as chitter chatter of the general public. It could easily pass as another normal day if only Shishido's entire existence wasn't trembling.

Dragging himself to the nearest secluded bench, he lowered himself steadily until he came to a sitting position. The brunette slowly moved his hand to touch the corner of his shoulder— then he winced upon the contact. He then closed his eyes tight and bit his lower lip.Yesterday night, Ootori had broken into his room and had his way again. Shishido had begged for his former partner to stop, but once again, he wouldn't listen. Somewhere in the middle of their sexual intercourse, Shishido wondered if he deserved the treatment Ootori was giving him. Maybe it was a payback for pushing his ex-best friend into a world of misery.

"Dammit," He swore bitterly.

At the back of his mind, he could hear whispers that told him to admit his loss and succumb to Ootori's treatment. It was telling him that after what he had done, there was no turning back. It was telling him that restoring what healthy relationship they had before is, indeed, impossible. It was telling him that this is the only loving he deserved.

Before Shishido knew what got into him, he could see his vision blurring rapidly and moisture dropped to his cheeks, dripping down to his chin, and fell to his jeans.

"You win," Shishido choked back his words. "You win, Ootori." He muttered desperately as he wipes his tears with his wrists. "I can't do anything to stop you," He grinded his teeth together in frustration, in bitterness. He was angry at Ootori for resorting to the action he was dishing out, for speaking to him like he was a nobody, for treating him like they were never anything more than two strangers who happened to cross paths, for looking at him like he was a walking mistake. But more importantly, he was angry at himself for doing all those mentioned aspects to Ootori seven years ago.

Because maybe if he hadn't let go of him that day, things wouldn't turn out to be as disastrous as this.

* * *

 

_"But you're Choutarou! You understand him the best, and 'Shido likes you the best!"_

With one hand in his pocket, and another holding a lit cigarette, Ootori kicked the ground in frustration. Looking up at the sky, he puffed out a large amount of grey clouds, as if trying to not let Jirou's statement to soak into his brain any longer.

Ootori brought his vision back to planet earth as he rubbed the cigarette butt against an ashtray provided on the bin next to where he was standing. In front of him lies an outdoor street tennis court half-filled with both singles and doubles players. It was the place that Shishido and he had use to execute their late night practice. Everything still looked roughly about the same, with some added courts and altered colour schemes.

He walked to the nearest bench and sat down, watching the game in front of him.

Ootori would be lying if he said that it didn't hurt him to be sitting at the street court that held so many of his memories together with his former partner.

"He likes me the best..." The silver haired male mumbled, placing the palms of his stretched arms onto the bench and tipped his own body weight backwards. "What a joke..."

"If it isn't Ootori - kun!" A bald man in his late age approached him slowly with his arms folded on his back.

"Matsumoto-san!" His eyes widened upon seeing the owner of the street court—he hasn't changed in the slightest, still wearing his favourite floral patterned red shirt that his wife had left him before she passed away. "It has been too long!" He swiftly stood up and bowed politely. "I hope you're doing fine."

The old man laughed. "I'm still alive. And you look like you're doing well too. Did America treat you well?"

"Well, it has been such a valuable experience to attend college there." He scratched the back of his head shyly, covering the fact that it actually had been a living hell for him.

"It's odd to see you without Shishido-kun! You two were the best in the area. Aren't you planning to reclaim that glory again now?" He smiled.

"Ah, well... Actually..." Ootori paused, trying to find the best way to break the news about their current state, but decided it was best to not let outsiders get involved in their major quarrel. "I've stopped playing..."

"Stopped playing?" Matsumoto gasped, not even trying to hide the fact that he was surprised. "That's such a shame! I thought you two would've started on world championship by now. I remember how both of you would lighten up whenever I start talking about it."

"We were young," Ootori responded, faking a smile. "And we dreamt big without understanding a thing about the real world out there."

There was a silence in the air before Matsumoto spoke. "Shishido-kun still play, here every now and then, you know," He started, still with a smile gracing his lips. "With the shorter boy with strawberry-blond hair, and sometimes the redhead." The old man gestured on the air to provide a rough estimate of their heights. "And he still talks a lot about you, Ootori-kun."

Upon hearing the unexpected announcement, Ootori blinked and his lips parted a fraction of centimeters in an instant. "He does?"

“’Choutarou would love this!’, ‘That’s what Choutarou would say too!’, ‘I remember Choutarou doing that!’.” The old man tried to imitate Shishido’s voice and body language although neither sound nor look remotely like Shishido. Ootori just giggled upon seeing Matsumoto acting out his former partner. “That’s more like it.” He said, patting the younger male on his arm. “Now you’re smiling, young man!”

“A-ah…” Ootori let out a stuttered noise. “Matsumoto-san…”

“Now, I want you and Shishido-kun to come back and play again,” He stated, looking up at Ootori. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you two beat the crap out of those so-called doubles players here. I’m counting on you two to step up the level!” Matsumoto grinned, slapping Ootori playfully on his back. Not braced for the sudden impact, Ootori jumped and yelped. “I’ll be waiting for you two!”

As soon as the owner of the street court had left, Ootori almost kicked the bench due to the conflicting feelings he had. Clenching the shirt covering the left side of his chest, he tried his best to prevent himself from screaming in irritation—why must everyone convince him that Shishido still liked him? It was painfully hard for Ootori to come into terms with the decision the brunette had made seven years ago. And he wasn’t in the condition to revert back to believing that everything that his ex-boyfriend had said was just a result of the spur of the moment.

_‘Maybe he did love you…’_

As the tiniest corner of his heart resonated and talked to him, Ootori jerked his head backwards, eyes twitching in disgust and lips parted to reveal his upper and lower teeth grinding together. He could feel uncontrollable shudder throughout his entire body and he clutched the fabric of his pants so firmly he could feel his nails dinging into his palms through the material.

“There’s absolutely no way…” He hissed through his teeth.

Unable to keep his emotion under check any longer, Ootori picked up his pace and dashed away from the street court, down the stairs and across the road. He ran—he ran so quickly that his entire vision was blurring. He didn’t know where he was going, but he just _ran_ as if it would take him further away from the tiny glimpse of light inside him. He had no need for weaknesses—he didn’t want the old him that he tried mighty hard to bury to surface up again. He made his resolve to pay Shishido back a hundred fold and he _will_ do it, no matter what it takes.

Yes… anything. Even if it involves completely destroying who he was.

Letting that mindset to seep into his vein and every corner of his brain, Ootori lowered his pace, and with his irregular breathing, he dared himself to look up and eased himself to a walking tempo.

He was about to pull out a stick of cigarette to calm himself down, but he ceased midway as soon as he turned his head to the right side. He let out a furious grunt and walked—stomped his way to approach the man who was sitting on a secluded bench with his head down.

“SHISHIDO RYOU!” He bellowed, not minding the public who started to whisper among themselves while looking his way. Ootori didn’t give Shishido even a second to escape—he grabbed him by the shoulders, sinking the tip of his fingers into his skin. Then he jerked the brunette backwards so abruptly that the bench he was sitting on wobbled and fell to the ground with a loud thud. “Who the fuck… do you think you are…” He let out an exceedingly throaty opening sentence.

“Ootori…” He locked his eyes into Ootori’s, lips trembling in terror and both his hands as well as his feet so powerless they quivered in his presence.

The silver haired male could feel his heart shrink when he saw how _bloodshot_ his eyes were, and how _red_ his nose was. He could faintly hear the hiccups coming from Shishido’s throat, and most importantly how _fucking terrified_ he seemed like. Ootori could feel his grip giving out upon seeing the sight and reaction that he expected the least. “You bastard…” He let free another gruff-sounding words.

Shishido kept quiet, amethyst eyes still staring deep into his hazel ones. They were nothing like he remembered them to be. They used to shine—they used to light up whenever they were together, they used to _smile_.

Only then, he let go.

The brunette couldn’t find the power to support himself with his jelly-like legs. He dropped to the ground like an inanimate object, only with his hands to prevent himself from completely tumbling.

“I’ll give you this one chance… and this chance only…” He hissed. “What… do you think of me… Shishido Ryou…”

“You’re irreplaceable…” He said shakily. “You’re… the only one I’ve ever looked at, Ootori… I take it all back… the things I said seven years ago, I take it all back… you deserved none of that… I’m truly, truly sorry…”

Wind blew between them, and Shishido waited for a response. He waited. He waited. He waited. But none ever came, until he realised he didn’t say _any_ of those words. His mouth was trembling, but he made _no_ sound whatsoever. He had been just staring at the rough concrete ground the entire time.

“I see,” Ootori started sharply. “If that’s really the case…” He lowered himself to Shishido’s height, placing his fingers on his chin and lifted his face up roughly.Shishido _would_ once again tear up pathetically if only he wasn’t too petrified by the dead eyes staring into him.

“I’m going to _fucking destroy you,_ Shishido Ryou.”


	8. Taki is Still Fabulous

With his knees folded neatly under his thin frame, the brunette took a deep breath and gradually opened his eyes to glance at the snow white paper lying in front of him. He had a fairly thick brush on his right hand that he was dipping into a container full of ink when the paper door behind him slid open and interrupt him.

"Wakashi, you have a guest," His father said softly, aware of the fact he had disturbed his son.

"Waka-c~!" Turning his head to inspect the owner of the overexcited voice proved to be unnecessary as he gently placed the brush on the mat.

"What is it, Akutagawa-san?" He sighed when he felt a weight draped over his shoulder, followed with two arms around his neck.

"It's your match tomorrow, right?! Why are you doing calligraphy instead?!" He chirped on, grabbing one of the finished pieces Hiyoshi had put aside. "Woaaaaah! So neat! I wanna write like this too!" He admired, letting go of the other male who started to regain his straight sitting posture.

"I'm not letting you draw on my calligraphy paper again. Not after that time where you drew a robot on it." He retorted flatly. "And to answer your previous query, yes. The championship is tomorrow.  It's necessary for martial artists to relax before their match, rather than practice rigorously."

"I don't get it~" He let go of Hiyoshi and sat perpendicular to him.

"More importantly, Akutagawa-san. How are things between Shishido-senpai and Ootori?" The brunette changed the topic.

"Mmmm..." He crossed his hands and closed his eyes, as if trying to come up with an appropriate response. "It got worse!" He snapped his eyes open, throwing a completely unnecessary smile.

"Worse...? In what way?" Once again, Hiyoshi asked for clarification.

"Choutan seems like he's neeeeeeever going to forgive Shishipon! He gave me this look as he said he'd rather have 'Shido hating him!" He raised his voice, mimicking the facial expression that Ootori did although it looked nothing like the face that the silver-head did two days ago.

Hiyoshi casted his eyes down to the tatami, gauging how disastrous things had turned out to be between his former teammates. He then glanced at Jirou who still babbled on, trying to make a perfect replica of Ootori's expression. He knew that despite the nonchalance radiating from the older male, he was legitimately worried about the relationship between the ex-doubles one of the tennis team. Otherwise, he wouldn't even bother giving him a phone call or coming all the way to his place to break the news.

"I will talk to Ootori tomorrow," Hiyoshi decided, and Jirou's face lightened up as he threw him an ear-to-ear grin. "I believe you and Mukahi-san will handle Shishido-senpai, correct?"

"Yooooosh! Leave it to us!" He fistpumped the air cheerfully. "At times like this only Waka-chan and Kaba-chan are able to support Chou-chan! Hmm... Maybe Taki-chan too!"

"Does Atobe-san know of this?" The younger male queried.

"Nope! I don't think so. I asked him the other day and he said ChouChou is doing greaaaaat! Well, although he did say that he seemed like he had something bothering him... but Keigo didn't wanna interrupt his private life!" Jirou answered, kicking his foot forward and almost spilling the ink in process. “He’s definitely suspecting, though. But knowing Chou, he’d be extra conscious of what he’s saying near Kei-chan in order to not leak any simplest hint.”

"Keep this a secret from Atobe-san for now, if that's possible." Hiyoshi retorted, slightly worked up because he didn't want to have ink all over the tatami. "I don't want Choutarou's performance in the office to be compromised because his boss knows about the hell going on in his life.”

"Piyo-c just doesn’t want Chou-chan to have further delay from working, right? So Ryou can have some space to breathe when he has days off.” The smaller male speculated, and apparently he got everything correct regarding Hiyoshi’s motive. “Got it~" He said. "But I'll definitely tell him when things get out of control!”

"I need one more piece of information before acting, Akutagawa-san." The brunette called out, getting Jirou's attention. "Do you know just how bad matters are between them?"

Jirou cocked his head to the side and closed his eyes once more, recalling the responses and expressions of Ootori and Shishido the past six days or so. "You see, Waka-chan..." He scratched the back of his head. "Knowing what's going on is one thing, but _understanding_ what's going on is a whole another thing."

* * *

 

"So you're going to Hiyoshi-kun's match tomorrow too, Taki-san?" Ootori questioned, leaning his body forward on the counter, watching his other former partner straightening out a measuring tape roll and placed the tip on the neck of the dress laid out in front of him.

"I'm pretty sure everyone is. Hiyoshi had been waiting so long for this day, after all. He looked pretty confident too." He replied as he wrote a value on the book next to him then proceeded to look at Ootori. "Right?"

"Well, he did sound very confident over the phone when I called him from America," He smiled, playing with the rosary dangling off his neck. “And it’s beyond me, because he’s always so conscious about his martial art. He just knows when he’s not cut out for a competition. So I’m really looking forward to tomorrow’s match!”

"Hmm, well… you know, what's beyond me is..." Taki placed the tip of the pen he was holding on Ootori's forehead and said, "why you didn't tell me that you were coming back."

"Ahh, so-sorry, Taki-san..." Ootori giggled nervously. "I wanted to keep it a secret until I settle back in Tokyo. Then I planned to throw a reunion party sort of thing... but Mukahi-san and Akutagawa-san found me out..." He smiled sheepishly.

"Well, no matter," Taki laughed, whipping out his measuring tape again and started to estimate the shoulder size of the dress that was sprawled over the counter. "Good to have you back, Choutarou."

"It's good to be back," He said, still with a smile gracing his lips.

"We should hit the tennis court sometimes," Taki continued as he adjusts his red-framed glasses."I heard you stopped playing, but a casual game won't hurt, right?"

Ootori hesitated for a moment before answering, "M-maybe..." he laughed humourlessly. "I don't mind, Taki-san."

Taki stopped writing on his book. He looked at Ootori's somewhat unreadable expression with intensity and took of his glasses, placing them neatly on the polished wooden counter. "I'm sorry. I hope I'm not bringing up any bad memories." He said.

The silver-haired male straightened his back, smiled and shook his head. "It's fine, Taki-san. What happened between Shishido-san and I was truly unfortunate, but I don't want it to stop me from enjoying something I did before the drama occurred."

He didn't rip his eyes from his former partner, he knew that Ootori wasn't being honest, but he didn't seem like he was lying either. Then he continued,  "I'm always open if you ever want to talk about anything, Choutarou."

Ootori took a deep breath and exhaled in order to prevent himself from having a massive breakdown regarding his current situation. "Thank you, Taki-san," He whispered.

"Geez, wipe that frown off your face!" Taki raised his voice, covering Ootori's face with an unevenly cut fabric on the desk. "You're gonna get so old before your time!"

"Eeeh...?! Don't say that..." The silver haired male pouted, grabbing the cloth on his face and pushed it back gently to Taki's side.

"Well, while you're here why don't you help me sort these dresses by size, huh? I've got slackers as employees and they exploit their break time!" Taki complained, placing a neatly rolled measuring tape to Ootori's right hand.

"Choose your employee correctly..." He sighed but accepted the item handed to him anyway. "But to think you'd open your own boutique is very impressive, Taki-san! This place is really well thought-out too."

"It wasn't easy," He grinned, dumping a pile of colourful clothing articles onto the counter. "But hey, I've always loved fashion design. The hardship was nothing."

"You're very respectable! But as a token of gratitude for my help, you have to pay for my lunch!"

"You've gotten too sneaky, Choutarou..." Taki sighed. "Fine! I'll take you to my favourite restaurant after we're finished!"

* * *

 

Shishido had considered to take more time off from tennis coaching because running around with his ass sore wasn't exactly the best option, but he decided that two days was already too much. Money wasn't about to fly over to his apartment. Besides... he didn't want to spend his time sitting still at home knowing that Ootori could grab him anytime and fuck him like he had done for the past few days.He knew that each passing day, the amount of resistance he showed to Ootori was getting smaller and smaller, and the silver-head got even more worked up as a result. Of course it didn't bide well for the brunette. Angrier Ootori means more pain, after all.

His last resort was to avoid Ootori completely by locking himself in his room where it's the safest. The younger male wouldn't be able to get inside hence he would be unable to touch Shishido. But it got foiled when he realised that Ootori knew exactly when Shishido is going to arrive in the apartment.

He came back to planet Earth when his phone rang.

"What is it, Jirou?" He started.

"Ryouuuuuu!" The male on the other line chimed excitedly. "You're coming to Waka-chan's match tomorrow, right? Right? RIGHT?" He asked, or more like, forced Shishido.

"Heeeh?!" The brunette grunted in disapproval. "Why should I?! I'd rather sleep in! It's gonna be weekend after all!" He replied sharply when he realised that Ootori was most definitely going to attend the championship to cheer for his friend.

"No, you HAVE to come!" Jirou insisted. "Everyone is coming too! Waka-chan is our friend! You need to be there to support him!"

“Can I not?” He answered monotonously.

“Eeeh?! Why won’t you come?! You haven’t seen him for such a long time…! And the others as well! Come on, Ryou, it’s gonna be lots of fun! I bet everyone will be surprised to see you attending!” The narcoleptic male whined, half-begging his friend to agree to his offer. “Please?!”

“I can’t be bothered,” He rejected his request once more.

“Awww… Ryou! Don’t you care about Waka-chan’s big day?” Shishido could almost see Jirou’s pouty face from the other side of the phone and that alone signalled that he had spent too much time with him.

"Who cares about some stupid match anyway," He sneered, trying to deny the fact that he was quite intimidated, and not yet ready to face his old teammates after so long.  "Hiyoshi's strong. He doesn't need anyone to cheer for him."

There was a long pause before Jirou’s next response. "Ryou, don't you dare say that," His voice lost its light all of a sudden and Shishido knew straightaway that he went over the line. He hasn’t heard such tone coming from the smaller male for as long as he could remember, and that alone surprised him. "You can't be a coward for the rest of your life and avoid the people who genuinely care about you." He continued sharply. "We want to support you. But with your unreasonable attitude right now, it's the same as you rejecting our hands."

Shishido could feel his heart twists into a knot as he raised his voice. "What do you people want from me? It's clear enough that all of you are on Ootori's side! Do you want me to admit that everything is my fault?! Is that it?! You lot just want to antagonise me further!"

There was a prolonged silence from the other end of the phone and Shishido wondered if Jirou had hung up. But he realised that he hadn't when he started, "Ryou. You're the one who's antagonising us." The male replied flatly. "Choutarou accepted us. But you ran away from us. At this rate, you're not only risking one person leaving. You're risking seven other people as well."

"What are you talking about? Ootori... left me already." He replied; bitterness sprawled all over his words. It was a fair enough statement considering what has been happening between them as of late.

"You were the one who left him, Shishido." Jirou muttered, emphasising every single syllable that came out of his mouth. "Come tomorrow."

With that, he hung up.

Shishido gripped the black smartphone on his palm tightly, he didn’t move it away from his ear. “Jirou… you don’t know what’s happening between us…” His voice shook as he spoke to the beeping noise. “It’s true that I left him seven years ago—I was the one who destroyed him, I understand.” Mind going back to the event that took place in the park two days ago, Shishido grasped the corner of his shirt tightly, and clenched the phone even tighter—at that moment he wished that he had never moved from Ootori’s side seven years ago. He wished he had stood by him and never thrown him those empty words. He wished he could turn back time to before Ootori left for America and apologise because he hadn’t meant to say the chain of letters he did back then. He wanted to run after Ootori in the airport and pull him into a deep hug and tell him what an idiot he was to throw away such precious individual. Because it hurts, it hurts to have someone who you sincerely treasure with your entire heart to show a completely opposing attitude that isn’t in a positive sense; not to everyone, but _only to you_.

With his heart in pieces, he managed to let out a pathetic croak that no one would have ever imagined coming from the proud Shishido Ryou.

“That man living with me isn’t Choutarou…"


	9. Someone Please Help Ootori, This Boy is Unbelievable

Every time Ootori sets his eyes on the fresh scar printed on Shishido's skin due to his actions, he had to hold back a whimper. He couldn't stand imposing such tremendous amount of animosity towards the brunette. After all, he was a human representation of his heart. But he kept doing it; he did it in hope of forming a shield over his sanity so that one day he would stop feeling guilt as a result of physically and sexually abusing the person who he cherished so excessively. 

Every time he sinks his teeth into Shishido's tanned skin, he would hear a voice begging him to stop; and it wasn't only Shishido's. It was his'. His heart would scream out deafeningly loud in his ears just like the drumming of thunders during a heavy storm. It would send electricity current along his bones and he would eventually feel it on his fingertips as he faintly flinched away from Shishido's trembling figure. The voice forced itself onto his brain in order to prevent Ootori from going further and write new scars on the man's body, ultimately resulting in a swell of self-loathe. He hated that voice. He hated how guilty it made him feel. But as much as he despised it, he found himself being disgusted with himself the most.

Because really, what the fuck is he doing to the man he loves the most?

He desperately wanted Shishido to remain screaming in agony, he needed Shishido to keep resisting and fighting back when he touched him, going on about how he wanted 'Choutarou' back. He longed for Shishido to turn around and take him in his arms, holding him close to his chest until tears soak his eyes and he'd weep in the gentle embrace of the man he loves, spending the night apologising for the deed that he lashed out. He wanted to wake up holding the man who he had given his entire heart to. And he wanted to once again see those gorgeous amethyst eyes light up with smile in the morning as they kissed.

But it was all just impossible fantasies his heart had rolled before him. Shishido didn't love him back, and he would never. Shishido wouldn't turn around and embrace him; Shishido wouldn't let him to hold his frame in the morning, let alone kiss those lips—he never had.

Every time he pushed Shishido's limp body away after their intercourse, Ootori would stomp into his room with both fists firmly clenched, and he would crouch against the closed door, grieving upon what a monster he became, upon what they were and what they turned out to be at that moment. But regardless of his awareness that he was ripping pieces of himself, one at a time, he couldn't find it in him to cease mentally torturing his former partner.

"Ootori, Ootori..." Shishido cried out as the silver haired male nibbled on his shoulder, on the wound he created last night. "Ootori... don't..." He begged once more with his face buried in the pillow, hands clinging to the soft object before him as if holding on for dear life. Ootori's knee between his legs, Shishido's ass was forced to be up in the air.

The innocent rosary on his neck was glued by the sweat produced by Shishido's body and they parted when Ootori pulled himself down, licking the skin along the brunette's back, only stopping when he made his way to the partition of his buttcheeks.

_Ryou... I love you..._

He whispered in his head as his slender fingers found their way to Shishido’s nipples, pushing, pinching and twisting them ever so roughly until the brunette let out pathetic incoherent grunts. Ootori allowed his upper set of teeth to push themselves against his skin, from his middle back down to his lower back, leaving dark pink trail on his sun-kissed skin.

_Not even for a second did I ever stop loving you..._

Shishido's entire being stopped shaking as soon as he felt a sensation that he hadn't anticipate. His arms let go the pillow that he had been clinging onto, and his eyes fluttered open, his breathing ceased for a split second. In that little moment, Shishido was suddenly hit by an unknown something that returned the sanity that he felt had been slowly leaving him. In those few seconds before the smaller male let out another cry of pain, he could feel warmth and more importantly, _love_.

Ootori had placed a soft kiss on an untouched curve of his neck. So gently and so delicately.

Everything seemed to play out in slow motion as he engraves that short memory deep in his brain, in his heart. He knew that he wouldn't experience that moment of intimacy for a long time, or perhaps, anymore. It was the intimacy that he had experienced years ago before their tragic separation; it was the care and love that Ootori had poured out, and Shishido basked in it—he accepted it, wasted and exploited it and never once appreciated it. He wanted to once again remember Ootori's uneven breath against his neck, the softness of his lips that came into contact with his unblemished skin, the trembling of those lips that signified Ootori's hesitation of hurting him. At that time, Shishido wanted to turn around and pull him in for a deep kiss, stroke his cheek and tell him that he doesn't have to suffer alone anymore, that he would always be there by his side, and he’d promise to never hurt him nor will he take his heart for granted anymore.

For Shishido, it was the few three seconds that gave him hope.

Then Ootori once again sunk his teeth deep, cutting through his skin and drawing blood in process. His hand moved down from Shishido's chest, down to his erection. The taller male played with the tip of his dick as his tongue swept over the blood and licking every corner of the fresh wound. Calloused hands pumping up and down in such speed, Shishido let out a moan, and another when he felt Ootori's left hand returning to his chest to roughly squeeze his nipple.

"Hnn! Mmmn!" He cried out. "Ootori...!" For the first time, half-screaming his name due to the bittersweet mix of pain and pleasure.

Hearing such demanding noises coming from his former partner, Ootori completely took his mind off his heartache, somehow, in an instant—he focused on solely drawing more and more of those lewd moans which resembled the finest piece of music for his ears. Because for the first time, he could feel moisture leaking out of Shishido's cock, and he just knew that he _needed_ to make him cum.

"Ahnn!" The brunette cried out as soon as he felt a jolt through his throbbing manhood and he spilled his seed all over Ootori's hand.

Then, he let go of him. Shishido fell limp on the bed, unable to comprehend what just happened. Him cumming was one thing, but the fact that Ootori had slowed down and actually attempted to _make_ him to get into the point of release was a whole another thing. And it baffled him even more when the bed shook, as a sign that Ootori had stepped away from it.

"Ootori...!" Shishido turned his head just in time Ootori had slammed the door behind him. "Choutarou..." He mumbled, trying to catch his breath before throwing himself back on the bed.

As soon as Ootori left Shishido's room, he raced for his and quickly shut the door. Leaning back on the wooden frame, he lifted his hands up and fixed his eyes on the right one.

"He came..." Ootori muttered, pupil slowly dilating and lips parted to expose his teeth. "He came..." He repeated once more as his eyelids uncovered the parts of the eyeballs that usually stay hidden, and the corner of his lips tugged upwards to form a twisted grin. "...by my hands... a guy's hands..."

Then he let out a dark chuckle, still refusing to tear his attention away from his hands. That snicker soon evolved into a laugh of a maniac that echoes inside his previously quiet room.

"He came!" Ootori screamed out numerous times in the middle of his deafening laughter. At that moment, he completely trashed any sanity he had left— because the oh-so-heterosexual Shishido Ryou _came_ by Ootori's own hands.

However, that laughter then fades away, leaving him slumped down, face hidden in between his knees, and one arm sprawled over the left one, while the other folded over and behind his head.

"What's... happening..." Ootori hissed between his teeth, once more trying to speculate what Shishido's actual feelings for him is, because based on what he gathered for a short moment today, he could faintly sense ecstasy radiating from the brunette. He’s _not_ meant to feel good about Ootori sexually abusing him—anyone shouldn’t. It’s… not right. And the way he heard Shishido calling out for him when he decided to leave without penetration was nothing less than an invitation. Shishido _wanted_ Ootori to assault him, and that thought left indignation in his pounding heart.

Slowly, the silver-haired male brought his quivering hands down to his erect cock, gripping around it and started to move up and down in an increasing pace. His fingers were still sticky of Shishido’s seed, and he let it smear all over his manhood as he bit his lower lip.

“Ryou…” He murmured with shaky voice. “Ryou…” He astonished himself by how _right_ it sounded on his tongue.

Ootori gulped as he maximised the tempo in which his right hand moved, his left one playing with his nipple. He imagined Shishido grinding his cock against his, two bodies melting into one as skin touches skin without any barrier. He fantasised of kissing Shishido sloppily, tongues rolling and fighting for dominance as they breathed in each other’s smell, saliva trickling down their chins but none cared enough to clean them up. He thought of Shishido engulfing him whole in his mouth until the tip of his dick slammed into his throat and coming out only to repeat the same process again. He visualised how Shishido would push him down the bed, climbing his body and inserting his cock inside his ass, and how he would move himself up and down, following the buckling of Ootori’s hips, begging to have his hole ravaged again and again. Ootori came.

And as he came, he cried out Shishido’s name.

* * *

 

“Waka-c looks _way_ awesome!” Jirou clenched his fists tightly as he screeched in his signature frenzied tone of voice that signified that the boy is indeed, awake. He was sitting next to Mukahi, who was trying to tell him to shut the hell up because he was being a living embarrassment, and Oshitari who was far too invested in the romance novel that he was reading to pay any attention to anything else going on around him.

In the arena, Hiyoshi stood in his snow-white Judogi that looked like that it had been washed ten times in a row with the finest detergent and smoothener. Around his waist was a black belt with two yellow stripes on one end that denotes him as a _nidan_ despite learning it only for a few years. He was lined up the front along with the member of the Hiyoshi family dojo, and his father who was busy briefing them. The arena had four large mats that were positioned neatly in the middle, around two metres away from each other, and although the match starts in one hour, a lot of audiences have showed up already.

“Is Atobe gonna come?” Gakuto chimed as soon as Jirou stopped screaming about how drop-dead _awesome_ Hiyoshi looked.

“Kei-chaaan?” He dragged the former captain’s name before answering with a huge grin. “He’s really busy with work, but he said he’s coming. Might be a little late, though! Oh, and Kaba-chan will also be coming with him!” He chirped on, pulling out a box of Royal Milk Tea Pocky out of his orange backpack.

“I wonder if we’ll have a full house!” He replied eagerly. “That Atobe is always so occupied! He never shows up to any event.”

“Kei-chan told me that if Ryou-chin shows up, we’ll have a reunion party to welcome Chou-chan back! And if he doesn’t, we’ll have a reunion party minus Ryou anyway!” Jirou declared with his mouth full of sweets.

“That Ryou really hasn’t given anyone else any update, has he?” The redhead muttered bleakly. “I don’t get him at all. He thinks we’re holding a grudge or something?”

“Well, he obviously still feels guilty after what he’s done, right?” Jirou answered shortly, looking at Gakuto. “We were _so_ surprised to hear the news about their fight, after all. And maybe a little upset at how he acted like he was the innocent party... then he just ran away and was never heard from ever since, well except from us, I guess.” He said, remembering the event that took place seven years ago after Ootori’s flight to America.

“Yeah, and Ootori had always been the forgiving one, but he has his limit too, really... and for him to leave without saying goodbye was… unlike the Ootori that we know.” Gakuto rested his chin on his hand, gazing blankly at the arena, focusing on a certain brunette. “And he didn’t even tell Hiyoshi.”

"Right! Right?! I was shocked too!" Jirou retorted loudly. "Oh, by the way Gakuto!! That game that I told you last time..."

The childhood friends blabbed on about various subjects for a long time, with Oshitari still sitting immobile next to them, not even trying to hide his tears when he reached the climax of the novel. Taki arrived thirthy minutes before the event started and Ootori short after. By then, Oshitari had stop weeping and all five of them engaged in a conversation, trying to catch up with one another.

"Ah, it's going to start soon." Oshitari noted calmly when he saw someone who resembled a presenter walking around the arena with a microphone.

Ootori glanced at the arena and saw Hiyoshi looking at him and starting to approach the boundary between the arena and the audience's seats. He quickly got off the bench and walked towards his friend.

“It’s the day, Hiyoshi-kun,” He said, placing both his hands on the smooth wooden railing. “I can’t wait to see how proficient you’ve gotten.”

“Aa,” He replied shortly in confirmation, eyes still trying to read the taller male’s deceivingly sincere expression. “You’re not doing anything foolish are you, Ootori?”

Ootori’s eyelids fluttered, shoulders tensed and hands gripped on the wood firmly in surprise for a split second. If he was talking to someone else, they wouldn’t have noticed the slight change in his façade but, it was Hiyoshi who was standing before him. And if not Shishido, it would be him who understands Ootori the best.

“Don’t go around and do anything that will ultimately cause you more suffering than you already have to deal with.”

“Hi-Hiyoshi-kun…” He murmured, legitimately taken aback by how accurately he nailed the state of his mental.

“I’ll talk to you after this championship ends,” He responded as he turns his back away from the other male.

“Uhm!” He called out and Hiyoshi stopped on his track back to the line. “Good luck, Hiyoshi-kun.” The silver haired male scratched his cheek lightly while throwing a sheepish smile.

“Thanks.” He returned Ootori’s smile before resuming his walk.

When he turned around to head back to his seat, he saw Atobe had hogged most of the space, still dressed in his purple suit that illustrated he just got back from a weekend meeting god-knows-where. He could be flying from France in his private jet for all he knows. Jirou was already fast asleep on his shoulder, Gakuto yelling at the former tennis club captain and Oshitari commenting on how hideous the colour looked. Taki was busy inspecting what material it was made of, and Kabaji just sitting calmly next to his childhood friend.

Seeing that, he giggled and and remembered his time in junior and senior high school when he didn’t have to worry about anything bigger than the nationals. It seemed so much relaxed back then, and what wouldn’t he give to turn back time.

"What is it, Ootori? You're spacing out. Are you admiring my flawless suit? Or is it my hair?" Atobe smirked as he teased the taller male who just chuckled before greeting Kabaji. "Is Shishido coming along? We're only missing him at the moment."

"Shishido-san..." Ootori trailed off, not sure what to answer. But it appeared that he didn't have to, as Jirou chimed in.

"It's 50-50," He said with his eyes closed, still grinning. "I invited him yesterday I dunno if he's gonna actually come or not. I mean, it's 'Shido we're talking about. The master of running away from his problems."

Atobe raised one of his eyebrows and said, "Well we just have to see, right?"

And as if on cue, the presenter started speaking on his microphone, loudspeaker booming around the audiences. After formal greeting and introduction of the teams as well as judges and commentators, he proceeded to explain the rule of the championship. It's a single-elimination based tournament and after one clean hit _ippon_ , one competitor will be declared winner of the match and move to a higher hierarchy. However, it's a different case for quarter-final. The competitors have to deal three clean hits to their opponent, and the first one who reached that number would be crowned the victor of the match.

Judging from the match schedule, there were around sixty participants for the nidan belt wielder, divided into A and B groups. Hiyoshi fell into the B group which means that his match would take place on the right side of the arena. Everyone could feel the tension even before his actual face-off, although the former Hyotei regulars did their best to still attempt lively conversation, discussing who they thought would win the duel. Some were far under Hiyoshi’s skill and they could easily tell, but some other were on par or even better than he was, and that’s where everyone started silently cheering for him from the very beginning.

When the ex-younger captain was called out to one of the four mats, everyone’s eyes drilled on him, and witnessing how calm he looked like.

“Ootori, you look like you’re the one who’s gonna be fighting,” Oshitari commented, putting his hand on his shoulder, making him jump a bit.

“D-do I really look that nervous?” He stammered upon hearing such statement coming out of his senior’s mouth. When everyone nodded in sync, his face turned red. “B-But! I really want Hiyoshi-kun to win…”

“So do we,” They grinned. “And we’re just as nervous as you are, Choutarou!” Taki added.

When the specific seven audiences focused their attention back to the arena, they were in time to see Hiyoshi catching the jabbed hand of his opponent with his left, before swiftly bending his body to slip his right hand on the back of his foe’s knee, practically lifting him up to the air on his back and in a split second, he smashed him down to the mat. A perfectly executed _Kata Guruma_ , and no one could even say otherwise as the judge screamed out “ _Ippon!”_ that marked the end of his first match.

“That was _SO_ cool!!!” Jirou stood up in an instant upon seeing the flawless move. “Did you guys see that?! Waka-c is _waaaaaaay_ awesome!!”

“Well, the great I have to admit that it was a quick match and the opponent really did stand no chance against our Hiyoshi.” Atobe said flamboyantly with his arms crossed like an awfully proud father while Kabaji only muttered soft but definite ‘usu’ in agreement.

"Awfully anticlimatic, though," The lone blue haired male added.

"He just made the wrong move," Ootori started, putting his finger on his chin contemplatively. "He threw his arm far too steep. That provided Hiyoshi-kun with enough opening to deflect and catch his advances. His reflexes are also not quick enough; it was almost like he couldn't catch up with the moment." The silver haired male muttered thoughtfully. "It must've been his first match. It really is nerve-wrecking to be in the middle of a crowd as big as this. And I suppose in this kind of match, make one mistake and you're out..." He continued murmuring. "That was a really good _Kata Guruma_ too. Hiyoshi-kun remained standing even after he threw his opponent."

"Well, well. You seem like you know what you're talking about, Ootori." Oshitari looked at him, half surprised.

"E-eh... well... I took judo class for a while in America and was lucky enough to be able to see a professional demonstration of some moves..." He quickly denied the compliment politely. "I don't have the talent nor the time for it, though... so I quit after a few months."

"I'm gonna go buy some sweets they vend outside! They look yummy!" Jirou raised his voice to recite a sentence that seemed to be out of context, but sweets are never out of context for him.

When he reached the exit of the location where the Judo championship was being held, he quickly flipped out his phone to check the time before dialling a number that was none other than Shishido's. However, even after three calls, the brunette still refused to pick up the phone and all Jirou could hear was his mailbox. The male holding the cell phone clicked his tongue as he looked forward, silently wishing his friend would be standing somewhere in his vision. But even after he stared at the distance for three minutes, he never showed up.

"'Shido..." Jirou sighed in disappointment, resorting to a last option which is to text him one simple sentence that would easily show up as a whole, unbroken message on the phone screen.

_'If our friendship ever mean anything to you, then come.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comment and kudos! I wasn't expecting anyone else to be interested in this kind of fanfic... so yeah, thanks ;;


	10. Mushroom and Judo

The phone in Shishido's pocket vibrated over and over, but all he did was ignore it.

"Ryou, 's that your phone?" A friend from the tennis club he worked at, Azusa queried when he decided that he got sick of the seemingly harmless noise radiating from Shishido's pocket. "Pick the fucking thing up, it's seriously annoying. It's unlike you to be ignoring calls. Having a fight with your new girl?"

"I thought I told you I'd rather stay single for now. Relationships are a pain in the ass anyway." He scoffed, pulling his phone out to briefly glance at the screen to view three missed calls from Jirou. He then put it on mute and shoved it back in his pocket, trying to avoid thinking about it. "There, I muted it. Happy?"

"Ecstatic," He chuckled before averting his eyes back to the display of sport shoes in front of him. "This one looks really comfortable. What do you think, Ryou?"

"Nah, I bought that when I was in high school and I swear it's like wearing a brick as shoes. It's so fucking stiff." The brunette denied, scanning the rest of the footwear. "This one is what I currently have. It's so much better because it allows your feet to breathe."

"Mm, I'll try that on, then. Are you gonna buy anything?" He asked as he called the salesperson to fetch the correct size for him.

"Nah," He stuffed his hands in his hoodie pocket. "Just wanted to take my mind off things."

Azusa nodded in comprehension before he sat down on the bench provided, waiting for the employee to return. But he couldn't take his eyes off Shishido’s facial expression—his eyes were shifting, lips pursed together and he kept looking left and right, feet all fidgety. "Oi, Ryou, you sure everything's alright? I'm your friend, y'know. You can talk to me when you're not feeling up to it."

The female employee approached them and politely confirmed the size and placed them on the floor before she left to attend another guest.

A minute of silence passed as his friend was busy tying up the shoelaces. "Hey, Azusa..." Shishido started, rubbing the back of his neck, successfully getting his friend's attention. "What would you do if you manage to fuck up the same thing twice in a row like _really_ badly, and then you're given a third, final chance?"

"Huh? Wouldn't people generally try to not fuck it up the third time?" He raised one of his eyebrows as if Shishido had just asked him what one plus one was. "What kind of thing did you manage to screw up anyway?"

"Urgh..." He grumbled, hesitant to answer his friend's query. "Relationship, I guess... I dumped this person seven years ago and now they're super mad at me, then I was given a chance to rekindle things with them but I didn't even take up that offer." He described as vaguely as he possibly could. "And now my high school friend is mad at me. He wants me to un-fuck the situation but I think it's way too late to do that. I thought I'd screw it over the third time so everything will be over..."

"Haa?!" The older male frowned, surprised by how amazing Shishido was with relationships. "Well, for starter, ask yourself whether you really want your ex back or not. And it seems to me like you can't completely fix everything up between you and your friend without once again be in a good term with your ex." He retorted, resuming his activity of tying the shoelaces. "You managed to screw thing up twice with him, though so it definitely won't be easy."

"Damn right it won't be easy," He groaned loudly. "He had always been— wait." Shishido looked at his friend who was still focused on his footwear. "Did you say ' _him_ '?"

"If it was a girl then you'd fucking use a 'she' instead of a 'them', you moron. Be more refined when trying to not tell the truth, you're embarrassing me." Azusa commented monotonously, completely taking Shishido by surprise. "Is it that Choutarou guy?"

"W-wha...?!" He jerked backwards, completely baffled. "...the fuck was that?!"

"So I was right," He grinned, standing up to test the pair of shoes he was wearing. "I'm smarter than you give me credit for,' He said, smacking Shishido on the shoulder. "Well I dunno about your relationship but if you really think he's worth the trouble it'll take to un-fuck the whole situation, then I suggest you go for it. And it seems like that Choutarou dude is pretty dear to you, right?" Azusa commented sensibly before adding, "I'm not that unknowledgeable y’know? I saw some old tapes of your match in the high school nationals a few years ago, doubles with him. Showdown between Golden Pair of Seigaku and Hyotei, eh? Sounds way too cool for you.

"Bastard! I'm hella cool!" Shishido raised his voice before sighing. He opened his phone one last time and saw a message sent by Jirou fifteen minutes ago and his expression stiffened. "Fuck..." He murmured, instantly feeling nauseous. Tried as he might, he couldn't bring himself to even imagine what it would be like meeting the former regulars after so long. What kind of look would they give him when he shows up? "Oi, Azusa. If I don't show up for work, assume that I'm fucking dead. I have a feeling that my captain is gonna shoot me seven times on the head."

* * *

 

“Oi, Jirou! Took you long enough,” Gakuto called out when he saw Jirou entering with a handful of sweets he bought from the store outside, smile decorating his face. “The top 32 had been decided a while ago, and now they’re starting on the next set of matches right away.

"Oooh!" He hooted cheerfully. "Is everyone else worse than Waka-chan?"

"Hiyoshi-kun certainly has to keep his eyes on the opponents. Some of them are really proficient," Ootori smiled, scooting over to make a space for his senior to sit. "But I'm certain that he can make it to the semi-final, at least, if he keeps up his performance."

Atobe pulled the sleeve of his suit to reveal a Rolex watch around his wrist and he glaced at it thoughtfully, then at the arena spanning in front of him. Straightaway, everyone noticed what was in his mind. Oshitari who was sitting next to him tapped him on the shoulder and smiled faintly while Gakuto's eyes were fixed on the match going on, but thoughts somewhere else. Taki took a deep breath and crossed his legs neatly, leaning back on the bench.

"All of you are also thinking of Ryou, right?" Jirou started with his voice lacking the spirit that usually coloured every word that came out of his mouth. "I tried my best to pull him back to us, but in the end of the day, it's his decision."

"I'll call it a crushing defeat that he can't get over," Gakuto smiled somewhat reflectively, but then he bit his lower lip and groaned. "I'm sorry, that comment was really not necessary." The redhead turned his attention to Jirou, who just sighed. None of the usually lively crowd even tried to break the ice.

"There's still time..." Kabaji whispered silently with his deep tone of voice, catching everyone by surprise.

A wide smile returned to Jirou's lips as he jumped cheerfully on his seat. "You're right, Kaba-chan! There's still a few hours! Maybe 'Shido got lost or something!"

Time ticked on, and although the former Hyotei ace tennis team had a complete change of topic, none of them could completely push away the tiniest hope that Shishido would show up and apologise, and come back to them— except Ootori. He silently prayed that his ex-boyfriend wouldn't show up. He had contemplated heading back to the apartment, but he knew that he couldn’t. His teammates had planned a welcoming party for him afterwards and no matter what, it would be wrong if he decided to leave for no good reason. The man with rosary around his neck couldn't focus, even when Hiyoshi won his second match with another clean point.

"That was quite a close one," Atobe commented contemplatively with his arms crossed. "His opponent was so close to catching him off guard." He added before eyes focusing on Ootori who clearly wasn't paying any attention.

After the top 16 for the prefectural championship was announced, the crowd cheered for everyone who made it that far. Again with no further ado, they reduced the mats to two and proceeded with the next set of face-off to decide who qualifies for the quarter-finals. Jirou had screamed about how super cool Hiyoshi was on the top of his voice, embarrassing the other brunette to the point where he decided it was best to disregard his senior and pretend to not know such man in the audience. His father smiled and chuckled at his son's behaviour before further briefing his son regarding the match he saw, and his next opponent. At this point of the championship, his foe seemed to be quite wary of Hiyoshi and it was obvious due to the way he remained on the defensive side, calmly inspecting for any blind side. It was quite an intense match as both parties seemed to be par in term of skill, and how they managed to drop the other to the mat, although the clean hit wasn't dealt until the third time Hiyoshi unleashed a technique that awarded him with victory.

However, even after the final game came upon them, Shishido was still nowhere to be found, and at this point, everyone was already scanning the area, searching for a familiar face while Ootori remained frozen on his seat, unmoving.

Hiyoshi stepped onto the platform, special for the semi-final and the final set of matches. Of course he had been confident of winning the entire championship, but he understood that taste of triumph was still far, as his final opponent is very much unpredictable, tricky to read, and quite proficient. For a moment he thought of the possibility of losing, although he quickly put out such a pessimistic mindset.

Fifteen minutes into the match, they were tied on 1-1 clean hit, meaning that the next to score would come out as the winner of the prefectural. He glanced at the audiences to spot an unnaturally concerned Hyotei bunch, trying to focus on his match, but he knew better. They were still waiting for a man that probably won't even turn up.

With a scoff, Hiyoshi fixed his sight back to his opponent who was slowly walking to the side, keeping him straight in front of him. And as if on cue, he lunged forward and grabbed Hiyoshi by the arm so tightly he couldn't find it in him to rip away. The other male jabbed his other hand, but Hiyoshi refused to give in, so he caught that attack with his other hand and they wrestled with the sound of the crowd cheering and whispering among themselves. He could faintly feel his weight being pulled up, and he thought he was done for when he heard a loud cry.

"DON'T YOU FUCKING LOSE, MUSHROOM!"

Hiyoshi's blood boiled with embarrassment as he gritted his teeth in anger as a thought crossed his mind.

_'I don't need that coming from you, Shishido-senpai! And who's a mushroom?!'_

Hiyoshi grabbed his foe, slamming him to the mat unceremoniously, and he thought that throw he just executed was mediocre move without any grace or fancy technique whatsoever. But amazingly, the judge decided that it was a valid point. Well, maybe his former teammates should shame him more, then.

The crowd exploded right away as Hiyoshi struggled to get to his feet. Somewhere in the middle of the audience, six ex-Hyotei tennis club members sat with a blank look on their faces. After all, where _the hell_ did that boy come from?

Shishido turned slowly towards them, his usually backwards cap was now worn the proper way as he pulled the front of it to cover his eyes. He didn't dare look up at his suddenly-and-eerily silent high school friends. He thought he did something terribly wrong until Gakuto sprang alive and slapped Shishido on the back, screaming.

"The hell was that?! I'm suffering from second-hand embarrassment!"

Shishido didn't react. All he did was click his tongue and looked away in shame. A quarter due to of what he just thoughtlessly did one minute ago, and three quarter because he was now standing in front of the most valued people in his life that he had tried to push away for seven years. He couldn't bring himself to tear the cap away and greet them like he should've done long ago.

The former captain smirked and got to his feet before firmly saying, "Guess we'll have a welcoming party for Shishido too."

The brunette jerked his head upwards to face Atobe, who was throwing Shishido that signature smug smile of his, and he could feel his shame being chipped away, especially when he saw the welcoming smiles of the people he considered his family. That moment, Shishido trembled because how could he plan to throw away everyone who genuinely cared for him, he couldn't forgive himself for antagonising them just to run away from the wrongs he did.

"S-Shishido Ryou here!" Out of nerve, he spat out the dumbest opening sentence ever.

Gakuto's lively expression faded, replaced with the face that someone would have when his friend just did a mistake worth noting in Ripley's Believe it or Not. "Geki dasa..." He mouthed.

"Well, that's Ryou-chin for you!" Jirou chirped, giving a nod to the mockery directed to Shishido while Oshitari only sighed, yet unable to hide his smile.

"Welcome back," Taki laughed, followed with added shade of red across Shishido's cheeks. Kabaji also exchanged greetings with him before Jirou ran around and turning the brunette’s hat around to the way he always wear them. None of them brought up any little bit of the story seven years ago, because they know that not only it would ruin Shishido's mood, it would also drag Ootori further down. It was a night to celebrate, after all.

In the middle of their lively conversation, Shishido looked Ootori's way, just in time for their eyes to meet, and the brunette had smiled thinly at him just to be replied with a silent scoff as he turns his head away.

Ootori truly and honestly wasn't prepared for a moment like that. When he saw a genuine smile directed at him, he wanted to return that gesture and say Shishido's name in a way he had before everything plummeted. But of course, he didn't. He tore their brief eyecontact because he knew that once he drowns in those amethyst orbs of his, he would break down. And it would fail Ootori's plan of wanting to prove to Shishido how he was no longer the crybaby who's too easy to forgive mistakes. He wanted to make Shishido suffers as long as time could allow him to. However, being in a group that held so much essence of their past relationship made Ootori's defences crumbled so swiftly.

"This prefectural championship today," A familiar voice boomed from the loudspeaker, and the ex-regulars of Hyotei tennis club turned their attention to arena where Hiyoshi stood proud, holding a trophy on one hand and microphone on the other, delivering his victory speech. "I'm sincerely grateful that I have the honour to attend, and to fight my way up, showing the fruit of my hard work to everyone." He continued, while the crowd was being absolutely silent. "What I can't believe is an old friend of mine who I had been out of touch with for seven years to come, swear and call me a mushroom," The brunette continued as his line of sight was fixed on his eight friends, sitting on the bench, but specifically directed at Shishido. The crowd burst with laughter upon hearing such serious opening being followed with a statement like so, leaving Shishido crouching on the ground, covering his too-red face with his hands.

"It was an impulse, okay?!" He raised his voice when the championship had come to an end and they were walking along the busy street. "You were struggling and I didn't wanna come to see you getting pummelled to the ground."

In which Gakuto and Jirou laughed at him, and the brunette and the redhead ended up screaming at each other like they always do during high school.

"Feeling okay, Ootori?" Hiyoshi slowed down his pace to let the silver-head who was walking in the back to catch up. They then walked side by side, keeping the distance from the rest of the group quite large in order to achieve a little bit of privacy.

“Uhm,” He nodded, although full of obvious reluctance. “Oh, I’m sorry, Hiyoshi-kun… I really shouldn’t be like this right now… I’m supposed to be happy for you… you just made a huge leap, after all,” Ootori apologised, still refusing to look at his close friend.

“This and that are two different problems, Ootori.” He replied reassuringly, not wanting to make him feel even worse during what was supposed to be a celebratory day. “You’ve had a talk with Shishido-senpai, correct? No, don’t tell me bluffs,” He said in advance before Ootori could say anything. “I’ve known you for fifteen years now. If you think I can’t tell when you’re lying, you’re gravely mistaken.”

“Hiyoshi-kun…” He muttered, half whining. He didn’t want to talk about it, but deep inside, he understood that sooner or later, he has to disclose everything to his friend. “Yes… I did talk to him.”

“And how badly did that go?” Hiyoshi raised one of his eyebrows, not even hoping that they reached some sort of sensible and best conclusion because that was downright impossible, knowing their clashing personalities.

“Bad would be an understatement, I’d say…” He trailed off, trying his best to not remember the occurrence that happened a few days ago. “I think we’ve reached the part where everything’s just beyond repair.”

“Nothing is ever beyond repair, note this,” The other male responded calmly in order to prevent invoking any unnecessary emotion. “As long as the two of you can have a sensible, mature talk where both parties listen to each other’s side of story, a satisfying conclusion can be reached. It’s only beyond repair when none of you want to make a move to fix the situation.”

“Oi, you two! Over here!” Jirou jumped sunnily as he held the glass door to a restaurant open, waving his hands to get Ootori and Hiyoshi’s attention.

“Calm down please, Akutagawa-senpai,” Hiyoshi stated ever-so-serenely. “That Atobe-san… is he seriously booking an entire restaurant for us again?” He sneered when he saw the almost-empty parking lot next to the location.

“That’s Atobe-san for you…” Ootori scratched his cheek lightly upon seeing that his former captain really hasn’t changed even a bit.

The two of them entered last to find, as expected, a completely empty restaurant except for the nine ex-Hyotei regulars. Waiters were lined up, greeting them politely as they ushered them to one large, luxurious dining table covered with the finest piece of fabric with embroidery on the edges. Right above the lavish wood, a glimmering chandelier hung idly, radiating dim light that built the environment. Jirou and Gakuto were the first ones to sit and nab the provided bread on the desk, smothering them in apricot jam—it was literally jam with bread instead of bread with jam.

“I also invited some other people that I thought are quite necessary to complete this occasion…” Atobe announced proudly as Kabaji pulled his seat back to allow space for his childhood friend to stand. And as if on cue, around a hundred Hyotei tennis club members came bursting into the room, cheering for Hiyoshi and pretty much everyone else.

“Fujimaki-kun, Arato-kun!” Ootori exclaimed upon seeing the two former second years that he had the pleasure of working with during his senior year of junior high school tennis.

“Choutarou-senpai!! Hiyoshi-buchou!! Kabaji-chan!!” Fujimaki charged right onto Hiyoshi who deflected him with ease, making him bump against the table. “W-why did you do that, captain?!” He cried out in pain, remembering that time during graduation where an exact same thing occurred except he head-butted a tree instead of a table.

“I never gave you the permission to hug me,” He shrugged lightly.

“Oh, Hitomi!” Gakuto slid to his side, along with Jirou and Shishido. “What the hell, you’ve shrunk!”

“Shrunk?!” He gasped. “You three just got taller while I didn’t grow even a bit…”

Atobe cleared his throat loudly as soon as the waiters finished distributing glasses of champagnes and wines, catching everyone’s attention. “I propose a toast for Ootori’s return, Hiyoshi’s victory in prefectural Judo championship, and to Hyotei tennis club!”

“Toast!” Everyone screamed out in unison as the noise of glass clanking filled the room, followed with gulping noise and resumed laughter and loud chitter chatter.

“Oi, Ryou!” Gakuto leaped, putting the target in a playful headlock. “You’re still fighting with Choutarou?! Usually you two are so disgustingly close!”

“Let go of me, Gakuto!” He struggled, attempting to shake off the redhead who was far too comfortable on his back, and Jirou on his shoulder. “And our quarrel isn’t exactly a small one, alright?! You can’t just expect everything to be all good again.”

“Eeeeh?! I don’t get it. I mean, I fight with Yuushi all the time but it’s never for more than a week!”

 “See, this is the problem with you two. You’re just never serious about anything, not even with your _fight_. This is why you couldn’t beat Choutarou and I even after senior high.” Shishido teased before face turning sour in an instant.

“’Shido, did you worsen the situation somehow?” Jirou queried sleepily and the brunette was truly amazed. Even half-asleep, he still could manage to pinpoint the situation well. “Y’know, Chou-chan isn’t the type to ever forget anyone who he loved. I’m sure, even now he still likes you!”

He ruffled his own hair in confusion before tying it up with what happened yesterday night. His hand moved to his shoulder unconsciously to touch the part where Ootori had rubbed his lips against, through the fabric. "Maybe..." He said absently.

"Ryou, I've been meaning to ask you this for a while now," Gakuto started, releasing his arm grip on Shishido's neck and pulled a chair. "Did you ever love him?" He asked as he lowered himself to a sitting position next to his friend. "I dunno, I'm not the brightest on this subject or anything. But seeing Yuushi walking around with his girlfriend, I can remember you having the same expression... Were you ever infatuated, even for a short period of time?"

Hearing such question, Jirou perked up and sat straight, wanting to catch a clear answer from the brunette.

"G-geh..." Shishido froze on spot. He was about to spit out a thoughtless response when he was suddenly struck by a realisation.

_Did I ever love Choutarou?_

He bit his nail in contemplation. His mind soared to the three years he spent together with Ootori. Of course, he had been unsure whether his decision of accepting the boy's love confession was the wisest move or not, and he had tried to put a clear distance between them in the first year. But he never thought of his legitimate and honest feelings during the second year of their relationship. He allowed himself to drown in the affection that Ootori had given him with no second thought. He had let Ootori kiss him on the lips more than once and he knew that if the boy decided to start touching him, he would not fight back. But Ootori never dared going beyond passionate kisses which Shishido was truly grateful of.

Thinking back to that period of time horrified him, because he could start to remember bits and pieces of his feelings. He recalled ever taking the initiative to lean in and peck the younger boy softly on the lips without thinking that it was odd. He remembered playing with the girls in his class to take his mind off Ootori, and the odd affection that started to develop in him. But the one thing that he couldn't remember was _why_ exactly he had said such hurtful things to someone who had invested their entire soul in the relationship.

Jirou and Gakuto remained silent as they wait for an answer. The hesitation and silence washed the two of them with relief as now they have an evident that supported the theory that deep down, Shishido really hadn't meant to hurt the frail Ootori nor push him to the edge of insanity.

"Just think of it as a rhetorical," Gakuto grinned, rocking on his chair.

"Ah, uhm. 'Kay." Shishido stopped short on his thought and was actually grateful that he didn't have to answer the redhead's query.

Jirou and Gakuto looked at each other and exchanged a smile. Dim as it might be, they could start to see the possibility of Shishido and Ootori coming back together.

The restaurant that was booked by Atobe was bursting with life and laughter as over a hundred ex-Hyotei members including Coach Sakaki were invited to take part in the celebration party. Of course, Hiyoshi was more than a little disturbed as he couldn't finish even a sentence without someone coming over and talking to them. Not for the first time, he hoped Atobe was not a bloody bourgeois who thinks he can have everything his way.

Ootori nervously brushed his pocket where a pack of cigarette was sitting as he stole a glance at Hiyoshi who didn't seem like he was having a joyful day despite his triumph in the championship. "I'm going to go out a bit, Hiyoshi-kun," Ootori said finally, ready to stand up before his friend grabbed his arm.

"I'm coming with you," He replied, finishing off his cup of hot Milo.

"N-no, I'll be fine outside. I'm not running away or anything," He frantically said while maintaining a calm facade.

Hiyoshi raised on of his eyebrows as soon as he saw that his friend was nervously palming his right pocket. "Ootori, look at me," He distracted him. And when his eyes met those of Hiyoshi's, the brunette swiftly locked both of Ootori's hands and rummaged his pocket to whip out a pack of cigarette. "Ootori..." He tapped on the table, not pleased at all.

The taller male withdrew his hands from Hiyoshi's loosened grip and tried his best to remain calm and think of a sensible reasoning that seemed to be failing him. "I... can explain."

"Well, go for it," He stared at Ootori impatiently, quarantining the nicotine sticks from his friend. After a prolonged period of silence, he sighed and continued, "You could've talked to me instead of resorting to this," He spoke, referring to the seven years Ootori had spent overseas.

"Hiyoshi-buchouuuu!" A loud voice boomed next to him, destroying the mood.

"Whoever you are, not now," He commented sharply, throwing a death glare at a former junior who whimpered in fear and fled right away, maybe having a war flashback from the time when he decided that it was a smart move to skip practice.

"Hiyoshi-kun, please. I need those," Ootori whined half-pleadingly. "I haven't had one for hours."

"Do you really think I'll let you have this back?" He frowned, followed with weak shaking of head of his friend. "Look, Ootori. You don't have to go through this alone anymore. I'm here; we're here to help the two of you to sort out this mess."

"Nothing can be done anymore!" The silver-haired male raised his voice in defense. "It's all over, Hiyoshi-kun." He lowered his tone. We're on completely different wavelength. It's not like high school anymore when we were always in sync. And... I can't..." He paused as he looked down, clutching the left side of his chest. "I can't accept anything less than him loving me."

Hiyoshi remained silent as he pulls Ootori to sit back down. "Do you really wish to live the rest of your life pretending like you despise the person you clearly know you love for eternity? Is that what you want, Ootori?"

The taller male trembled, couldn't find it in him to nod, as much as he wanted to. No matter what, he really couldn't stand lying to Hiyoshi— not that he ever not realise that Ootori wasn't telling the truth. "I... Hiyoshi-kun... you don't understand... it hurts me to even look at him."

The brunette exhaled heavily before he retorts. "I can't claim that I understand what you're feeling right now, Ootori. But it seems to me that you're only hurting more because you can't find the strength to hate him, although you know that any normal human would."

Ootori swallowed as he poured a fair amount of wine to his glass and started to sip the content little by little. He couldn't bear how accurately his childhood friend had nailed the situation. Hiyoshi was right, he tried too hard trying to hate Shishido and it did nothing except invoking more pain and bitterness in him. In the process of physically hurting his former partner, he scarred himself even more as a result. He ended up absolutely loathing himself. "I can't find any other way, Hiyoshi-kun..."

"As I was saying earlier," He responded as he placed his hand gently on Ootori's quivering shoulder. "You don't have to go through this alone anymore. You've suffered enough, and so has Shishido-senpai. Everyone is here to help, Ootori. Don't push us away."

"H-Hiyoshi-kun..." The silver-haired male choked back his words, feeling his heart tightened, pushing against his ribcage. Hiyoshi had expected Ootori to start crying like the old days, but he was surprised when he saw that those eyes weren't sparkling even a little. All he could see was a dark look of grief that signified that Ootori's hope had not been restored— he still thought that fixing the situation is impossible and that was the moment when Hiyoshi realised everything had been so much worse than Jirou had suspected, and he had anticipated.

He silently cursed himself for not being able to provide Ootori with the support he desperately needed.


	11. Ootori Scored a Home Run With His Shitty Scud Serve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just finished chapter 15 and I can't wait to make them GET TOGETHER AGAIN GODDAMIT JUST KISS

Everyone went through the night with an absolute blast— they had karaoke while some were obviously tipsy, played truth or dare, cards and whatnot. The party concluded at around three in the morning, and thank the gods it was Saturday so none of them had to wake up early for work. They went separate ways after bidding farewell and exchanged mail addresses or phone numbers to stay in touch. Oshitari and Gakuto were the first to head home on a cab, followed with Atobe who had personally dialed one of his chauffeurs to bring the finest limousine to drop off some of his former tennis partners, as well as Kabaji and Jirou (who was already deep in his slumber). Hiyoshi's father had kindly offered Taki and Ootori a ride home but the latter had refused as he claimed that his residence wasn't that far away.

"Ootori, give me your phone number," Hiyoshi said from inside the car, through the open glass.

"Ah... I still haven't purchased a SIM card yet. But I'm still using my old email address if you want to contact me." Ootori replied, answered with a nod before they drove off. The silver haired male took a deep breath and he wished he had called a cab or something as soon as he turned his back.

Shishido was standing in front of the restaurant, looking just as uncomfortable as Ootori was, but there was no doubt that he was waiting for him. The younger male clicked his tongue and looked away, walking ahead of him. But Shishido followed, around a metre behind him. They exchanged no words

The brunette had no slightest idea why he decided that it was a good idea to be following the man who had been assaulting him continuously for a week. But talking with Jirou and Gakuto allowed him to see in a different light. He wanted to understand Ootori's feelings; he wanted to see if there was still a place for him in his heart. Because that night he was struck by a sudden realisation that he couldn't live without settling everything with his former partner.

So, with some extent of courage summoned in his heart, he managed a soft whisper, "Ootori..." But the man he called didn't respond, nor did he lower his pace."I know what I've done is unforgivable. But... if there is still a chance of us starting over again, please..." He lunged forward, grabbing Ootori's right hand, making his feet stop moving. "Please let me in again."

The other male still didn't look back. He let Shishido's grip tightened around his wrist. Ootori understood that if he opted to turn around and face Shishido, he would crumble. The effort that he had put to forget him would be in dust, and he would be giving the brunette a chance to wreck him again.

"Ootori, you used to be so forgiving and affectionate towards me..." He continued nervously. "I realised that I took it for granted." Ootori could almost hear Shishido's voice breaking and he couldn't stand it. He was never fond of anyone who had tried to hurt his former partner, and the more Shishido tried to talk his way out of their massive feud, the more disgusted Ootori became with himself. "I-if you give me one more chance, I promise,  I—"

Shishido could see a slow motion of Ootori’s hand moving, and he had _hoped_ that he would turn around and pull him into a deep kiss. In that situation, he wouldn’t even care if he smelt and tasted like smoke and alcohol, he sought the warmth of his former doubles partner, and the protective arms that were always around him, ready to shield him from any harm that might come his way. But of course, unfortunately his life was not one of Oshitari’s cheesy romance novels, as in a speed of light, the taller male ripped his hand free from Shishido's grip, making the other individual stagger, almost losing his balance.

"No," He said decisively. "You don't deserve to hold my heart anymore, Shishido Ryou."

Shishido could feel himself slowly breaking as soon as he heard the ice cold sentence coming out of Ootori's mouth. He had admitted that he was in the wrong, and pleaded so that they could start anew. Hence, the reaction he anticipated was a much warmer one, or maybe at least a little chink in that armour of his. That moment, he started to ask himself just how badly he fucked up their relationship. Just when he was about to raise another chain of words, the silver-head added a quivering sentence that took him by surprise.

"...so please let go of it."

With that, he continued walking, leaving Shishido rooted on the ground.

The smaller figure wrapped in purple hoodie stood still, couldn't take his eyes off Ootori's slowly disappearing back. Of course, he was taken aback by what he just admitted. Ootori just confessed that he still _loved_ Shishido, and he absolutely didn’t know what to do with the piece of information that was suddenly slapped onto his face. All he could tell himself was one sentence:

_‘Please, don’t love me anymore, Ootori…’_

Shishido has had enough of imposing pain upon the younger boy who once always cling to him, because now, even though he tried to take away that pain in his heart, all he was doing was adding onto the burden. _His entire existence_ is a pest to Ootori, and he can do nothing but blame himself for starting the flame. Shishido couldn’t bear the thought, so as soon as he arrived back in his apartment loft, he didn’t even bother looking around to see if Ootori was anywhere near him. He kept walking towards his bedroom, and when he slammed the door shut, he jumped to the bed and buried his face on the pillow. Then he let tears flood his eyes.

What alarmed him even more is that Ootori didn’t come into his room to touch him.

* * *

 

"Thank you very much!"

The alert bell rang as soon as the door was opened, and from inside, Ootori emerged, holding a suit set covered in clear plastic that screamed out freshly dry-cleaned. Tomorrow is his first day in Atobe's corporation, after all. On Thursday, Atobe had introduced him to some of the regarded employees while speaking of highly of him, he really shouldn't come unprepared without brand new suit. He had also make sure that everything was neatly packed in his briefcase.

When he got back to his room to hang the clothing article, his phone vibrated that alerted him of a new email. He quickly took the gadget out of his pocket to look at the sender, which happened to be Hiyoshi. The content of the mail simply stated:

_'Want to hit the court today?'_

Ootori hesitated for a moment before nervously glancing at his closet door. He hadn't used his tennis racket ever since senior high school, nor had he touched any other rackets. And he was pretty sure if he tried to play with it, the old griptape would rub against his palm, leaving it smelling like rubber and sheds some of its black material. Hence it would also get ruined right away. Ootori had enjoyed tennis, and he still does, regardless whether he was with Shishido or not, but using that racket is definitely out of question. Not only it symbolised the sweetest memory he had from high school, the grip tape that clung to it was also a present from Shishido after U-17 ended. The second grip tape that he gave him, the only sweet reminder he had left of Shishido. He wasn't sure why he had easily burnt all those pictures of them, but he couldn't find it in him to dispose of the grip tape. And now, Ootori had an even more difficult time to even think of destroying or replacing it.

He opened his closet and crouched near the yellow racket located in the corner, along with one tennis ball that had been given to him when Shishido graduated from junior high, leaving him in charge of being the vice-captain of the club. There was a messy text written in black sharpie that simply read ' _You can do it!'._ Ootori grabbed the handle of the racket with his heart aching and wondered what would be left in him if he tear the grip tape surrounding it. Would he be free of his inner fight, or would he regret it right away?

His phone vibrated once again in his palm and he almost jumped in surprise.

_'I'll bring a spare racket.'_

Ootori pursed his lips together, trying to decide on an answer as he swap his attention between his phone and the tennis racket lying on the carpet. With trembling fingers, he shook his head and started composing a reply.

_'I don't mind. When are you free?'_

Then smashed the 'send' button because he knew that if he stared at it much longer, he'd change his mind. Besides, he needed some way of distracting himself. Being alone always provoked him to try and occupy himself, which usually ended with him thinking about a certain someone who he really didn't want to think about. Shortly after Ootori sent a response, his cell vibrated again, displaying an email from Hiyoshi, indicating his preferred time to meet up. He quickly got changed to a casual sporting attire, and covering a jacket over it since it was getting quite cold lately. Then he left the apartment.

When Ootori reached the street court, Hiyoshi was already waiting for him on the bench.

"Here," He passed a black-framed racket which he pulled out of his bag. "Is the grip alright? Your hand is bigger than mine, so I installed new grip tape just then." He explained as Ootori held the racket, clenching and unclenching his right hand on the handle.

"It's perfect," The taller male let out a smile, bowing to thank his childhood friend who went through the trouble for him. "Did you warm up already, Hiyoshi-kun?"

"No, not yet," He answered as he got to his knees, stretching his legs. "Three laps around?"

"Sounds good," Ootori confirmed as they started their jog around the court. "I missed running laps," He chuckled upon saying something that he thought he would never say.

"Wanna crank it up to ten?" Hiyoshi asked in his usual flat tone, but Ootori understood his friend's sarcastic remark so he laughed it off and politely rejected. "So, why law?"

The silver haired male mulled his decision of attending a law college silently, but after a while trying to come up with something, he simply said, "It was an impulse more than anything, really. I don't have any reasons." He chuckled rather humourlessly.

“You haven’t really told me much about your profession, though,” Hiyoshi answered, still running in a steady pace with Ootori next to him. “I can’t imagine you as a lawyer. After all, you were always too soft, just like in junior high when all of the members came crying to you.”

“That’s because you were too harsh, Hiyoshi-kun!” Ootori pouted, remembering the time when he and Kabaji had to take care of whingeing juniors because Hiyoshi’s training menu is way too harsh for them. Well, they managed to make the former captain tone it down a notch or two, although it took quite a lot of effort. But even then, he had always been too overly strict, and everyone always ended up complaining to him because they knew that talking to Hiyoshi about it would be futile. “I don’t know… being a lawyer _is_ demanding for me. After all, you need to be very confident in the way you speak… and not to mention defending the people who you know are definitely in the wrongs. Well, I try to avoid those kind of people, though.”

“Yes, that was what I thought. You got to be one cold hearted bastard to be a lawyer.” Hiyoshi commented flatly.

“Right?” Ootori chuckled, still in awe in how he always manage to catch his friend’s joke which to most people never sound like jokes at all, since he always expressed it in such a calm and composed manner.

“Ootori, you came back with Shishido-senpai last night, correct?” He said, suddenly switching the topic into the one he hoped wouldn’t be brought up. “If I looked correctly, it seemed like he was waiting for you. Did you two talk at all?”

“Hi-Hiyoshi-kun… is it alright if we don’t talk about that right now?” Ootori responded hesitantly, lowering his running pace since they almost completed their third lap. “I really… don’t want to…”

When they came to a complete stop, they walked to the bench and grabbed their rackets, Hiyoshi eyeing his friend. “Do you really intend on dragging the situation longer than it needs to be? I’m sorry, Ootori. I really can’t stand you two fighting over something that can be fixed with effort. And in order to put an end to this childish argument, I need to understand the situation you two are in.” He then placed his hand reassuringly on Ootori’s shoulder. “For that, I need you to be completely honest with me.”

The silver-haired male blinked in uncertainty as he watched Hiyoshi walking to the other side of the court before thinking back of the celebration party yesterday where Shishido had seemed to be involved in a deep conversation with Gakuto and Jirou, then he thought to himself.

_‘…Are Mukahi-san and Akutagawa-san also doing the same thing to him…? Are they trying to… fix our ties?’_

Ootori stood on the other end of the court, trying to remember the position he had to be on in order to execute a smooth return. It was a good thing that Hiyoshi understood that he was rusty, so he had performed a weak serve that anyone can return. The taller male pulled his arm back as soon as the ball bounced and heard the sweet noise that it produced when the round object hit the centre of his racket. When the ball went past the net, Ootori stole a glance to the empty side of the court next to him, where he had expected to find Shishido dashing forward to cover him. But there was no one there.

 _‘Of course…’_ He whispered to himself. _‘That’s just not possible… Restoring our relationship? You must be dreaming, Hiyoshi-kun…’_ He continued as he continued the rally. _‘We’re already torn. There’s no place for tranquil for us anymore.’_

As if getting out of the slow motion, Ootori wobbled, almost losing his balance when his racket didn’t quite reach the direction in which the ball landed.

“That was an easy one, Ootori. Geez, you’re really out of touch, aren’t you?” Hiyoshi commented plainly. “Come, give me your best Scud Serve.” He said, pointing his racket towards Ootori.

“Uhm,” He gripped the ball in his hand tightly, staring at it as if it would help him to regain his tennis instinct. He then threw it up to the air, bent his knees slightly, drew his arm back and smashed the ball as hard as he could.

Hiyoshi’s eyebrows twitched upon seeing the ball flying above his head and disappearing in the sky somewhere. “You know, Ootori," He started. "The batting centre is down the street." He joked emotionlessly when he saw what a potential he had as a baseball player, to be able to homerun a tennis ball like that.

“I’m sorry, Hiyoshi-kun!” Ootori bowed deeply. “I’m really rusty!”

“Well, no matter.” He sighed, calming down in a matter of seconds. “Are you just going to stand there, Shishido-senpai?” He turned his head to the side, voice so loud even the brunette who was standing still in a distance could hear him.

“G-geh!” He tensed when he realised that Hiyoshi had noticed him, and had contemplated fleeing from the location, but somehow he didn’t. “I- I just happen to be in this area… and I saw you were playing, so I thought I’d stop and watch…” He muttered, as he approached the two, but keeping himself in a safe distance away.

Ootori turned away, pretending to disregard his former partner as he clutched the racket tight in his hand, trying to not have any unnecessary breakdown.

Shishido could feel his heart pounding and heat rose throughout his body as soon as Ootori directed his back towards him. He wanted to call out to him, but he understood that there was no chance of the other male responding to him. “I’m sorry. I’ll… just leave.” He quickly stated.

“Shishido-senpai!” Hiyoshi called out and stopped him in his trail. “Aren’t you going to play with us?”

The spiky haired male turned his back and threw the fakest, the most hurtful grin that he had ever done as he answered. “I’ll pass.” After saying that, he turned his back and left the area.

Silence stretched between Ootori and Hiyoshi when Shishido had left. The silver haired male remained standing behind the serve line, hands clearly shaking—maybe in pain, maybe in sorrow, maybe in anger. Or maybe all three of them at the same time.

“Ootori—“ The shorter male started.

“Stop it already, Hiyoshi-kun!” Ootori raised his voice in an instant, still refusing to face him. “It’s not going to work out! Nothing will get any better!” He continued to spit out words after words out of the mixed feelings that he was experiencing. “You don’t have any right to meddle in our affair, so stop acting like you can fix us! You understand absolutely nothing!”

The brunette was taken aback by what his friend just cried out, but he kept his calm façade as he crossed underneath the net to get closer to him.

“I want you to stop poking your nose where it doesn’t belong. I can’t fix this. That jerk can’t fix it. Nor can you!” He bellowed even louder, and as soon as he finished, he could feel a hard something against his cheek and the next thing he noticed was _excruciating pain_ as he lost his balance and fell on the ground with a loud thud, racket clanking on the court underneath him. Hiyoshi towered above him before leaning down swiftly, grabbing him by the shirt and yanked him closer.

“You want to live the rest of your life slowly killing yourself? FINE.” He screamed out, losing his composure and Ootori knew that he had crossed the red line. Never once he had seen his childhood friend losing his temper and resorting to loud voice. “I’m _worried_ about you and I don’t want to see you suffering anymore. I'm not so disillusioned with bitterness or guilt that I can't view things from a different perspective. I know when I'm asking too much, but this isn't one of those scenarios. You can restore what you had before, Ootori.  But the way you’re behaving right now... let alone Shishido-senpai, _I_ can’t even stand you.” He continued yelling in the taller male’s face before pushing him and letting go of his grip on his clothes. “I'm nowhere near as blinded with sick love as the two of you, and I don't let the slightest hint slide. Shishido-senpai only refused to play because _you_ turned away from him. Do you really think you have any right to blame him for making the situation worse?”

Ootori cushioned his fall using his elbows and stared at his childhood friend, whose eyes were still lit with fire. Finding himself not brave enough to face the situation, Ootori looked away in anguish. Because really, what is he doing, yelling at someone who was genuinely concerned about him? But even then, Hiyoshi didn't understand what Ootori really wished to achieve by rejecting his former partner and insisting on hurting him. Instead of fighting with himself to forgive, Ootori found himself fighting to do the reverse. He was trying his best to live despising every inch of Shishido's being, and that proved to be harder than pardoning him.

Upon saying such thing to his friend only to be answered with silence, Hiyoshi was struck by a sudden realisation and his eyebrows twitched. He only hoped that the assumption that he grasped a few seconds ago was false and that the taller male was simply ashamed by his own action instead of... "Ootori, are you intentionally trying to hurt him?" He questioned, and his fear came true when he saw Ootori flinched at the query, not raising any denials. "I... never thought you were this kind of person." His expression stiffened. "Ootori, did you hear what I said before? Shishido-senpai _loves_ you."

The silver haired male grinded his teeth in frustration. Not only Jirou, even Hiyoshi had to say something illogical like that. Because no matter how many people try to convince him that Shishido reciprocates his affection, his brain just wouldn't take it. "Well, what about me, Hiyoshi-kun? I loved him too. But what did he return my feelings with? It was anything except appreciation." He then looked at Hiyoshi, and with a blank expression, he said a remark that took Hiyoshi aback, because he seemed perfectly _fine_ as he says it, as if it was just a mundane thing that everyone admits. "Why can't I do the same to him?"

At that moment, for the first time, Hiyoshi wished he was back in high school where Atobe was the one having to deal with the drama happening in the team. And it wasn't because he was tired of trying to support Ootori who seemed ungrateful, but because he felt inadequate. He felt like nothing he says could heal Ootori from his mental breakdown, all he was doing was stepping up the tempo of the dreadful process. If it was Atobe, he would be able to easily see through Ootori and provides him with the help he desperately needed in order to get up. Because as Jirou had said a few days ago, there's a fine line between knowing, and understanding what's going on. Hiyoshi thought he understands Ootori, but the person in front of him was not the person he had been close with for years. And tried as he might, he could no longer read him.

"Is this what you really want, Ootori?" Hiyoshi's fists shook involuntarily. He was at loss of what to say to the creature in front of him.

"...What?" The silver-head slowly got to his feet, dusting his pants. "Are you telling me to just let what he did to me go unpunished?" He asked him back defensively. "Why should I show mercy to someone who ripped me inside out for seven years?"

"Because you're Ootori Choutarou," He said challengingly, eyes meeting his with intensity but hoping that his friend would yield. "Ootori would forgive anyone who admits their mistakes and genuinely apologise. He wouldn't allow himself to be consumed with grudge, nor would he step over someone's feelings. Ootori believes in second chance."

After hearing what his friend had to say, the taller male could feel his breathing ceased and his heart pounding madly. He could hear echoes trying to snap him back to his senses, telling him he had imposed enough pain to everyone around him. But Ootori decided that it was too late to turn back, he then pushed the whispers out of his heart. So with a smile decorating his thin lips, he said:

"It's amazing what time can do, right?"


	12. Jirou is an Actual Sherlock Holmes

Shishido could feel his heart beating at a hundred times per second as he travelled through the corridor of a place he once crossed almost every day. His hand ran through the rough surface of the rendered wall, feeling the coarseness of it as the bumps rubbed against his fingertips. Dim, gentle sunset burst into the area, enveloping the pillars and his entire existence in its warmth. He only had to put in a little effort to picture what the hallway would look like during twelve in the afternoon where it would be packed of students running, and teachers raising their voices at them. His heart pounded louder and louder in his ears as he approached an area where a silver haired male dressed in ochre blazer and dark brown long pants would stand nine years ago, looking out the window with his soft, curly locks flowing due to the breeze. And as if on cue, he would turn his head and gave him an absolutely stunning, most comforting smile that anyone could ever give him. Then, he’d whisper his name that came out like a finely composed music, because it sounded _too_ right in his eardrums.

Shishido held his breathing and looked to the ground, away from the window in order to prevent himself from getting all too emotional and start tearing up in response to his hallucination.

After a prolonged silence, the brunette started to regain his senses and continued his trail once more, looking to the left side to see a sign that clearly read ‘1-A’, Ootori’s old classroom. Clutching his heart, Shishido moved on slowly until he reached a room located in the corner, just before the stairs. With his hands quivering, he turned the doorknob to reveal a large space with a raven grand piano sitting idly, the orange sunlight reflected on its surface. The large window that arched at the top, just on the right side of the elegant musical instrument remain unchanged, still with a bay to allow an audience to sit and observe the player.

He made his way to the glass cabinet full of trophies and medals, certificates proudly displayed on the wall above it. Somewhere in the middle of them, he could see Ootori’s name printed in golden paint, along with the trophy that he had won during his last year of senior high school, and two other smaller ones on each side. The brunette placed his fingers on the clear glass pane, as if reading every text written on it. His dejected chuckles echoed in the empty room.

“You were so ecstatic to win this, weren’t you?” He smiled, still with the desolated expression inscribed all over his face. “I remember that look of absolute surprise you had when you were announced the winner… I’ve never seen you that puzzled.” Shishido kneeled before the cabinet, reflecting the event that occurred a decade ago. “And then you thanked me for it, didn’t you?” He let out a shaky chuckle. “You’re ridiculous… it was all your hard work. Why did you have to thank me for winning? You huge idiot…” Shishido’s smile soon fades away as he withdrew his hand from the glass back to his side, leaving him in the room alone, only with the chirping of birds to accompany him. His body tilted backwards and legs spread out to come to a sitting position, he then looked down on the ground, completely shattered. “Choutarou… come back… I can’t stand this anymore…”

Before Shishido could shed tears, his phone rang in his pocket and he quickly grabbed it to see Jirou calling him. Taking a deep breath to get rid of any nerve, he picked up.

“What’s up?” He started.

 _“’Shido!!”_ Jirou chirped cheerfully from the other side of the line _. “Can I ask you a favour, please? Please?”_

“Calm down, you’re too excited. What kind of favour is it? I’m kinda scared now…” Shishido responded, rubbing the back of his neck because Jirou doesn’t usually do phonecalls.

 _“Okay, but I need your honest-est answer_!” He replied, still with the lively tone. _“Do you know where Chou-chan lives? Or at least the area?”_

The brunette’s heart suddenly stopped for a split second and he could feel his breathing stuck in his throat. “W-why are you asking me that? Do you have any business with him?” He stuttered, because that was the one thing he didn’t want to be asked about, and by Jirou too, of all people. He’d know when he’s not telling the truth.

 _“Well, though I’d love to go play in his place, but it’s not me who needs it. Waka-chan was bugging me about it today, so I decided to ask you.”_ Jirou answered Shishido’s question right away.

“Why don’t you ask Atobe? He’d know where he lives, right? I mean, come on. Atobe knows everything.” He said, trying to get out of the awkward situation.

 _“Y’know Ryou,”_ Jirou started, turning down the volume of his voice that startled Shishido a little. _“You always avoid conversation about your roommate… then you claim that you haven’t seen Ootori ever since seven years ago, but somehow things seem to get even worse between you two. And now—”_

“No, Jirou. We are _not_ living together.” Shishido raised defensively, although might be a little too abrupt for his own liking.

 _“Then why did you stutter?”_ He queried once more, much to the brunette’s discomfort. _“And you didn’t say that you don’t know where he lives, but you told me to go ask Kei-chan about it. ‘Shido, are you living with Choutarou-chan?”_

“W-what the hell are you talking about?! Of course not!” He lied through his teeth even though he knew that there was no getting out of the topic. In about thirty seconds, Jirou would make him fess up anyway; it’s just the kind of person Jirou is. He talks so lightly and nonchalantly but subtly forcing the target to tell him the information he desires.

 _“I saw you running to, and screaming in front of my loft that day, Ryou.”_ The other male whipped out his secret weapon, making Shishido’s eyes fluttered open in surprise. _“You seemed desperate to get away from something.”_

His lips trembled as he shakily whispered. “You… were there?”

 _“You_ are _living with Chou-chan, aren’t you, Ryou?”_ Jirou questioned, ignoring Shishido’s response

The brunette let out the hugest sigh before scratching the back of his head nervously, comprehending the fact that it was a dead end for him. And even if he keeps denying it, Jirou would persist and use slipped hints against him. “…Yes.” He murmured. “My roommate is Ootori Choutarou.”

* * *

 

“One more glass, please.” Ootori gestured at the bartender behind the counter who was busy mixing drinks as ordered from one of the customers. He smiled at him, nodding lightly before pouring the drinks into a female’s glass and moved to pour another shot of whiskey into Ootori’s. The silver-haired male mumbled words of gratitude before grabbing the container and sipping it. First day at work wasn’t so bad—he had conversation with intellectual people and he actually didn’t embarrass himself; he was off to a good start. Ootori was given his own office by Atobe, and a personal assistant named Kataoka Mayako. She had shoulder-length wavy hair, raven in colour, extremely polite and obedient—she was also a great company to have around, so Ootori wasn’t too overly upset about that either, despite the fact that he’d rather work alone.

He took another sip of the alcohol and by the time he finished it, he could feel his body starting to get too overly warm for comfort, and face rather flushed, then he thought to himself, _‘Drank more than I planned._ ’ as he stood up with legs slightly quivering and paid for what he drunk before leaving the bar and hailed a cab to head back to the apartment.

Ootori leaned back on the cab, rummaging through his briefcase to see if he had any mineral water left to at least ease him up from the heat. He grabbed a circular object and pulled it out only to see that there was nothing in it. Exhaling loudly, he placed it back inside and clipped his bag shut. His head ached painfully, especially when bright headlights from the cars going the opposite way hit his eyes repeatedly. Thankfully, it didn’t take long before the taxi came to a complete stop in front of the destination. Ootori paid the driver the correct amount before thanking him and walked towards the main hall to access the elevator.

Ootori inserted the key attached to his wallet into the socket and literally pushed the front door of the unit open, almost toppling as a result but thank god he didn’t. Because if he had fallen, he wouldn’t have the strength nor the will to get back up. As he endeavours to regain his senses, he saw Shishido’s purple sneakers lying near the door with sock stuffed inside, before he clicked his tongue and angrily slammed the door shut. Ootori wobbled his way in the living room—he hadn’t expected to experience that what seemed to be a harmless tipisiness half an hour ago could turn into quite a major problem. He only barely had any control over his movement and thoughts when he kicked the door into Shishido’s room open, revealing a brunette who immediately dropped the book he was reading and looked at Ootori in surprise.

His face was flushed, breathing audibly jagged and legs unstable. The air was immediately filled with the smell of whiskey that made Shishido’s eyes twitched. Ootori was clearly high on alcohol, and god knows what a drunk Ootori would do to him. The brunette could only hope that he would still have his skin in its proper place by the end of the night.

“Ryou…” The silver haired male hissed as he advanced, legs hitting the frame of the bed and he fell on the mattress with his hands to help him crawl his way to the man in front of him, who looked much too paralysed upon hearing his first name coming out of Ootori’s lips. Instead of flipping Shishido around like he always does, the silver haired male leaned in right away, grabbing his waists with both his hands, sliding them up and down, T-shirt moved along following the rhythm. Ootori’s tongue ran over Shishido’s Adam’s apple which bobbed up and down due to his nerve.

“Hnn…!” The brunette couldn’t hold back a whimper from the sensation he was experiencing. If there was one thing he didn’t anticipate, it was exactly what was happening at that moment.

The taller male slipped his hands underneath Shishido’s clothes to faintly traced circle around his nipple before flicking it with his index finger, making he let out a surprised gasp. His tongue was busy travelling about his neck, teeth nibbling and occasionally grinding against his skin and the old wounds that stung—but Ootori was nowhere near as rough or forceful as he usually was. Shishido then moved his hands to round them around Ootori’s neck, however the other male did nothing to stop him, nor did he react in the slightest. If anything, his movement became bolder as he pinched and twisted the bud between his fingers in attempt of drawing out more moans from the figure underneath him.

Ootori didn’t know what the hell he was doing. His brain failed him—he couldn’t think of anything but pleasuring the man lying underneath him. His body was burning, half because of the alcohol, and the other half because of his overflowing lust.

Shishido’s toes curled and body stretched, encouraging Ootori to filth him more. The taller male landed his body over his when the brunette pulled him close, tongue all over his neck, one hand playing underneath Shishido’s shirt and the other crawling down to the slight bulge in his pants.

“Geh!” He let out a whimper as soon as Ootori rubbed his manhood through his boxer and pants. At that moment, he completely submitted to his former partner who was currently having his way with his body. But oddly enough, Shishido wasn’t disgusted; he didn’t attempt to push him away. All he could whisper to himself was ‘ _more, more, more’_ as those connoisseur hand slipped underneath his pants and underpants to grip his cock in his warmth. “Ootori…” He whispered, tightening his arms around his neck as if begging for more. Maybe it was because he longed for the old delicate treatment that his former partner always made readily available for him, or maybe it was because he was starting to lose his mind due to the immense amount of guilt swirling inside his mind for the past few days.

The silver haired male nipped on Shishido’s chin before withdrawing his hands, placing them on the mattress by his side to undo his tie. But as soon as he saw those hungry amethyst eyes, electricity sparked throughout every vibe of his being and he sobered up in an instant.

Shishido realisedthe precise moment when Ootori’s eyes flinched and lips trembled as a sign that he had magically snapped out of the effect of the alcohol. He gave him a soft smile of submission, right hand travelled and found its way to Ootori’s unblemished cheek, stroking it delicately. Even for a split second, he could see _pain_ in those hazel eyes that belong to his former partner. Immediately, Shishido thought that maybe the reason Ootori had refused to have him any other way but from the back all those times was to hide the scar and grief in his eyes. Keeping such theory in his head, he gathered all of the courage he could get, the brunette ran his fingers through the curls that had yet to lose their softness. “You don’t have to do this anymore…” He weakly said as he came to a half-sitting position supported by his other arm. “I promise that I won’t ever hurt you again, so…” Shishido whispered, still with a smile on his thin lips. “Will you forgive me, Choutarou?”

As soon as Ootori acquired control over his own body again, he could see the face of the man he loves so closely that he could smell the mint in every breath that he let out. Shishido was already leaning in to land a kiss on his lips. That was when Ootori utilised both of his hands to push him back onto the bed roughly, teeth grinding together in fury.

“What the _fuck_ ,” He hissed. “I don’t need your promise; I don’t need your apology!” He screamed as he immediately straighten his back. “I needed that seven years ago! Where the fuck were you all those time, you ungrateful jerk?!” Ootori continued to spat in fuming rage, grabbing Shishido by the collar and dragged him close to his face. “You were here fucking all those girls while I was there _absolutely alone_!? You think it was an easy seven years for me?!”

Shishido choked upon the sudden impact, but mustered enough strength to speak after Ootori finished his sentence. “You weren’t the only one suffering, Ootori,” He started, voice trembling as he gave him a destroyed look that almost made him loosen his grip. “I lived in insecurity for seven years. I lived in regret for seven years.”

“Yeah?” Ootori chuckled darkly before Shishido could continue. “You lived in _regret_?” He let go of Shishido, dropping him back to the pillow. “That doesn’t even come close to what you’ve put me through. I lived in _agony._ I lived without trusting anyone _ever_ again. I lived without support. I lived without hands that would pick me up when I tumble. And at one point I thought that dying is a sensible solution to end it all, Shishido Ryou. Now, I want you to tell me that living in _regret_ can even compare.”

The smaller male remained silent as he listened to every word that his former partner disclosed, with an apologetic expression. Because he knew that no matter how many times the word ‘sorry’ comes out of his lips, it still wouldn’t heal the damage that seemed to permanently attaching themselves to his ex-boyfriend’s heart.

Ootori clicked his tongue and looked away, couldn’t stand the stillness that dragged on between them. He then shifted his body, trying to get off the bed before Shishido grabbed him by the arm swiftly and with his soft voice, said. “If earning your forgiveness means succumbing into your abusive behaviour…” Shishido’s hand shook, and Ootori still didn’t have his eyes facing him. “…even if my body gives up, I’ll gladly submit to you.” The brunette said decisively despite his croaking voice, and he could observe a sudden tension on the other male’s shoulder. “If you really think I deserve to be harmed, then by all means, break me.”

Shishido could feel moisture flooding both of his eyes, and soon dripped down to his chin. He _hated_ crying because it makes him look weak, but all he had been doing whenever he thinks of Ootori lately is shedding tears, and he found himself not caring how lame it turned him as a person. He just wanted _Choutarou_ back.

Ootori hadn’t expected to hear the sniffling noise behind him. After all, his former senior had always went about how useless crying is, and that it does nothing except over-dramatise the situation. It was such a coincidence that he had his back facing him, so he wouldn’t have to look at his loved one weeping over their shattered relationship. Because even just hearing those sobs caused his heart to throb uncontrollably, and he didn’t want to even begin to imagine what it would be like to be facing him while he sat there, clinging to his arms tightly as if it could fix them.

“I… if… if… breaking me is what it takes for Choutarou to come back…” Shishido continued, voice raspy due to the tears. “…I want you to do it.”

He could feel like his heart had been struck by a typhoon. Ootori bit his lower lip so suddenly, and so brutally that he thought blood would leak out. He ripped his arm from Shishido’s grip while standing up at the same time, dragging him forward, making him tumble to the ground. The brunette let out a cry of pain as soon as he landed on the ceramic floor elbow first. However, Ootori didn’t look back. Because he understood that if had looked back, he would crumble on spot. So, instead of letting even a second of hesitation took control of everything, he charged out of the room, slamming the door in process.


	13. Actual Olympic Candidate Shishido Ryou

"Shishido crashed into my place last night," Jirou abruptly said.

Atobe, who had his knuckles absently stroking the bone of Jirou's hip, froze for the fraction of a second before he responded with, "I had assumed he was keeping in contact with you and Gakuto, but I had not known he was within such... Close proximity," he confessed, picking his words as diplomatically as any keen businessman would have.

Jirou smiled and turned the page of the magazine Atobe had in his lap. "There's nothing going on between us, but it's nice to know you would be wary of even Shishido Ryou where it comes to me," JIrou said knowingly, swiftly decoding the meaning in his lover's words. He pressed a kiss to Atobe's jaw. "I never thought I'd see the day."

Atobe cleared his throat and hedged the subject. "And what was the occasion of the visit?" He asked, knowing that the spiky-haired brunette had never been the one to take initiative to attempt conversation with others.

Jirou allowed the hedging for more important things. "He has roommate troubles."

"He should move out."

"Not everyone has the resources to take such drastic actions, Keigo," Jirou reminded.

"Right, of course. Sorry."

Jirou relaxed against Atobe's side. "It's not just any normal roommate trouble. He can't just get up and leave like that, after what he did the last time." He frowned.

They might as well have been holding the magazine upside down for all the reading they were actually doing, but still Atobe turned a page to keep up the farce of interest. "I'm hoping that doesn't imply what I think it does," Atobe muttered, although he had a feeling it did. Jirou wasn't a cryptic person; his words were relatively straightforward most of the time, and easily deciphered. "What kind of trouble is it?"

"Ex-doubles partner trouble."

At that, Atobe finally pinched the spine of the magazine balanced in his lap and put it on the bedside table. He pinched the bridge of his nose next, sighing. "And is Shishido currently running away from his problems?" He ventured.

"Actually, he's facing them head on without thinking of the consequences," Jirou confirmed with a laugh.

Atobe didn't find anything too funny about a man who hadn't changed over the past seven years, but Jirou's sense of humor had always been a little odd. "What of Ootori?"

"I'm pretty sure that the man who walks into your office in the mornings is different from the man who goes home to Shishido at night."

"In what way?" He queried, silently hoping for a sunnier answer than a presumed violence matter. But his prayer wasn’t answered.

"In the 'I've discovered bruises, scrapes and marks on Shishido with literally no other possible explanation than what I think it could be' kind of way." Jirou wasn't laughing anymore. After a full minute of silence, he lifted his head so that his eyes met Atobe's. "Keigo," he said seriously, "he doesn't think it's wrong at all." His eyes were angry and repulsed. "Ryou doesn't think he has any right to say no to Chou-chan."

Atobe's brows knitted. Well, that was new. If Shishido hadn't changed, obviously Ootori had—for the worse. Although his mind was racing, he remained calm and asked once more to affirm what Jirou was saying, in the most direct way possible. "Jirou. Are you telling me Shishido is being mentally and physically abused by Ootori?"

"Not to himself." Jirou emphasized, letting out a gentle breath against Atobe's shoulder. "He thinks he's being rightfully punished." Jirou proceeded to tell Atobe about the talk he had with Shishido at eleven o’clock last night, located in his own apartment, before he had gone to Atobe's home to give the brunette some space to rest. He still wasn't sure he had made the right decision in doing so, but Shishido had insisted that Jirou accompany his mysterious boyfriend instead of wasting away during his days off from work wallowing in someone else's problems.

"That's bad," Atobe rather needlessly pointed out at the end of it all, his fingers absently finding their way into Jirou's wavy curls at the base of his neck. Shishido always had the tendency to be hard on himself. After they'd stopped speaking a few years back, Atobe had sat back and waited for the man to come find him some day and for their friendship to be rekindled. He had put Shishido on the back-burner while he'd focused on other things, but maybe that had been a grave mistake. "What do you think can be done for Shishid-"

"I don't know," Jirou cut in, turning a little and snuggling under a multitude of blankets. He looked like a hibernating bear as he buried himself in Atobe's sheets. "And just for your information, I still don't approve of his actions," he reiterated. "I didn't approve of them seven years ago, and nor do I now." His eyes softened a little. "But it doesn't mean he has to endure what Chou-chan's dishing."

That was true. Atobe wondered about Ootori as well. It was becoming increasingly clear that he had even less of a grip on the situation than Shishido had, being the perpetrator of such an unhealthy relationship dynamic. "What about Ootori?"

"I don't know, Keigo." Jirou's voice was muffled. "... I feel sorry for him."

After a couple of hours, Jirou drifted off to sleep, a gentle snoring sound wafting through the room. Atobe looked upon his sleeping lover fondly, and quietly disentangled himself from both Jirou's clutches and a myriad of twisted sheets. 

The fact that Jirou had taken two full hours to fall into any solid pattern of sleep was worrying Atobe on numerous levels, and he felt the need to do something.

Walking over to the desk, he pulled open a drawer and retrieved his most personal cellphone. While it was his policy not to use his cellphone as much as possible in his room, he switched it on and scrolled through a small, intimate contact list. Only eight numbers, with middle school photos attached to them.

He highlighted one and dialled, quietly unlocking the door to the balcony as he waited for the other to pick up.

_"May I help you, Atobe-san?"_

Atobe slid the door shut behind him, peeking past the curtains to make sure Jirou's sleep was undisturbed before he walked to the edge of the balcony and rested his back against it.

"There's something I need to talk to you about, Wakashi."

* * *

 

The clock pointed at eleven thirty—it ticked on painfully slow and loud, and more than often, Shishido eyed it like Jirou was eyeing him that time. He could no longer deny that some serious shit was happening in his life due to the way Jirou had been acting for the past few days—being with him for so many years already, it was easy to tell that the shorter male was slowly losing his patience, and resorting to a tenser façade whenever he spends time with him.

Just a few minutes ago they had paid the massage therapist on the ground floor a visit, since Shishido had bent his arm in an awkward manner that almost resulted in shoulder dislocation. Naturally, he refused to take off any clothes he had on, since he didn't want to show the condition of the rest of his body. But it was a mighty good thing it wasn’t an awful injury that would force him to take time off from his job. Still, he knew that a second challenge lying in front of him wouldn’t be so easy to overcome.

Jirou crossed his arms, impatiently waiting for an explanation for something that seemed like it didn’t happen due to an accident. “Ryou, did Chou-chan did that to you?”

“He didn’t!” Shishido raised his voice defensively, nervously palming his shoulder. “It was my fault. I latched onto his arm and he suddenly moved, so I got dragged off the bed. It wasn’t an Olympic styled landing, I’m telling you.” He muttered, speaking the truth about the situation that happened an hour ago. “I’m being honest.”

“The bed…” Jirou’s eyes drilled onto his once more and Shishido’s expression stiffened, almost face-palming himself for forgetting to cover up that fact. “Ryou, you forgot to take into account that I’m not a psychic. There’s a million explanation why exactly this particular scenario took place in your bedroom.” He said. “I want you to explain to me precisely what happened an hour ago.”

“It was just an argument,” Shishido scratched the back of his head, trying to find a good cover-up story to keep the fact that Ootori had been raping him discreet. “Ootori was kinda high. He got really emotional all of a sudden and he pushed me into my bedroom. Well, the point is that he sobers up and realised what he was doing and was about to leave, but I grabbed his arm to apologise. And yeah… this happened.”

However, Jirou was only half-listening to his friend’s obviously made-up explanation which was full of holes in order to focus on the curve of his neck under the hoodie he was wearing. It was terrifyingly red—he could see a small part of bruises and scars before he shook his head faintly, not wanting to know what the rest of his shoulder even looked like. “Ryou, did Chou-chan hurt you anywhere else?”

“Huh? Of course not. Don’t be stupid.” He denied right away, grabbing his hoodie and dragging it to completely hide any evidence he hoped he didn’t reveal.

Jirou stared at Shishido challengingly, pointing at his black clothing. “If that’s the case, you’d have no problem with showing me your shoulder, right?”

“W-wha?!” He yelped in surprise upon hearing the question and he realised that he had fucked up really badly. Still gripping the hood tightly, he grinded both of his teeth in desperation before the other male advanced to slowly put away his hand and moved his clothes so that he could see the entire breadth of Shishido’s shoulder.

Upon seeing the far-from-okay- condition of his skin, Jirou couldn’t hide a wince and a soft gasp of surprise. It was worse than he had anticipated—full of rough, purplish-red bruises, shaped like double sided crescent that spread to even his nape and dominating the other part of his shoulder as well. Just by looking at them, Jirou felt absolutely nauseous. He immediately grabbed the bottom of Shishido’s clothes and yanked it upwards to reveal wounded stomach and scarred chest as if he had been fighting off wild animals. The shorter male bit the bottom of his lip to prevent whimpers from escaping due to the image of Ootori torturing one of his two best friends, which was starting to take its toll in his head.

“Ryou…” He started, letting go of his grip on the brunette’s clothes and proceeded to gaze into his defeated eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me it was _this_ bad? It’s… not a trivial fight between teenagers anymore, Ryou. It’s an inhumane _abuse_ that Ootori is lashing at you. Do you understand that?”

“What else can I do?!” Shishido raised his voice, his body shaking in fear, in frustration, in sorrow. “My apology can’t make the situation any better!”

“Ryou, Ryou!” His friend grabbed his quivering hand in attempt to soothe him, even a little. “Look, you can stay in my place for the time being. In fact, that would be the best option.”

“No, Jirou. I can’t do that.” The brunette shook his head as he whimpered. “Ootori is going to break if I hide from him. He—he’s going to suffer even more than he already had if he doesn’t let his steam out. I really don’t want him to be in anguish anymore…”

The strawberry-blonde male pursed his lips together upon seeing his friend who had seemingly lost all rational thinking he had left. “Are you saying that you’re fine with him thrashing you like this? Ryou, are you saying that you’re going to deal with this intolerable violence?”

“I have no choice, Jirou,” He responded, withering amethyst eyes looked into his light brown ones. “I started it all. And I want to end it all.”

“Ryou, please think about it rationally.” Jirou told him gently although he was undeniably upset at Ootori for going over the top with his anger. “There is absolutely _no way_ I’m letting you handle this alone. Do you understand that what you are doing is driving Ootori to the edge of insanity? You’re _accepting_ his abusive behaviour and I’m afraid that sooner or later, Ootori will think that _it’s perfectly fine_ to treat you this way.”

“Aren’t you missing something here?” Shishido queried all of a sudden, chuckling darkly and regretfully. “I did the same thing to him for seven years, Jirou. And unlike physical scars, mental pain can’t be healed that easily.”

Jirou dropped to a sitting position, unable to handle the man in front of him alone anymore. Of course he thought that maybe violence would be a part of the story that Shishido had for him, but definitely not to this extent. He had gravely underestimated the situation because he thought that Ootori was still the man he was a decade ago, and no matter how broken he became, Jirou had thought that Ootori wouldn’t bear to hurt the person he loves to this degree. He needs to do something. And quick.

So, after forcing the brunette to rest in his room, Jirou decided to get some sleep, although for the first time, it didn’t happen very quickly. He woke up five in the morning and concluded that putting any more effort to keep his eyes closed for more than five seconds was far too demanding. He quickly dialled this ‘secret lover’ of his.

“Kei-chan, I’m sorry to bother you this early but this is really urgent.”

* * *

 

  _‘You still have time to turn back. Please, please stop hurting yourself this way.’_

Ootori’s eyes snapped open as soon as his ears echoed with the said words. In less than one second he came to a complete sitting position, sweat spilling out from his body as if he had been fried with the heat of midsummer sun. Panting loudly, Ootori brought his hands up close to his eyes, and he saw just how visibly they were trembling.

_‘Please don’t throw away the once chance you have left just to unleash your revenge, I’m begging you.’_

He slapped his hands onto the sides of his head as quick as lightning. His fingertips applied such enormous pressure that he could feel his skulls being caved inside. “No, no. Leave me alone.” He muttered, teeth grinding in weariness upon having to fight with himself continuously. More than once, he would dream of facing his fourteen years old self, whose eyes full of tears and bitterness, a blue hat clutched in his arms. Sniffling loudly, he would beg again and again for the 25 years old him to cease torturing with the man he loves.

_'Please don't treat Shishido-san this way. Please don't do it.'_

He could still the sentences ringing in his ears. Ootori screamed; he screamed and he threw away the blanket covering him; he grabbed a handful of his own hair and started pulling them as if it would help the voice to die. But it never leaves. Almost every hour it would come back and whisper the exact same thing that it had been crying out. Ootori couldn't stand it. And he thought that maybe, maybe he could shut it out by once again physically scarring Shishido. Maybe it would finally shut up if he had done enough of that.

"It's all your fault... It's all your damn fault..." He hissed in infuriation. "If only you never lied to me, this wouldn't happen... it's all your fault... you deserve this..." Ootori's voice trembled with overflowing anger.

**_“If you really think I deserve to be harmed, then by all means, break me.”_ **

Ootori screamed. He couldn't take it anymore. He really shouldn't have taken up the offer for this apartment. His friend had told him beforehand that his roommate goes by the name 'Shishido Ryou'. And Ootori had prepared himself ever since—he thought he finally would get a way to lash out his revenge, and maybe when Shishido had learned enough, they could start again from square one. But the proud Shishido Ryou had submitted to his abusive behaviour, and Ootori could not accept that decision. One half because he couldn't stand breaking his mental this way, but the other half because he desperately wanted to do something that Shishido would oppose to, and suffer from. And if not an abusive roommate relationship, he wasn’t sure what option he had left.

_‘Please, don’t push me away. Listen to me, please. Please. Shishido-san might have hurt you, but he’s ready to apologise, he’s ready to throw away his old self if you give him the opportunity. Please, Ootori. Please give him a chance to prove himself.’_

“S… SHUT UP!!” He yelled in absolute frustration. He just wanted the voice to leave him alone; he never asked for it to haunt him like that. “I need to teach that jerk a lesson… I need to make him live in fear of hurting me ever again. It’s… perfect isn’t it…? He’s submitting to me. I can do whatever I want to him without feeling guilty. I’ll… I’ll make sure he learns… I’ll make sure he will no longer underestimate Ootori Choutarou…” Ootori’s room soon was filled with laughter as he stepped off the bed and sweeping off his belongings off the desk, ripping off the calendar on the wall, flinging his bag across the room. His laughter remained unceasing until he could no longer hear any voice in his head.

* * *

 

Hiyoshi was indulging in his leisure activity, also known as reading the pile of books that had been sitting on his desk for quite a while. The rainy weather was perfect for a cup of hot Milo, but all he got sitting on the bed stand was a cup of classic green tea. Sometimes he wished his family was less traditional…

His phone rang, disrupting him from his craving for hot chocolate.

“May I help you, Atobe-san?” He answered flatly, because he recognised the number that dialled him. It was the phone reserved only to contact the other eight members of the former regulars of tennis club, hence it was quite the personal gadget, even for Atobe Keigo.

 _"There's something I need to talk to you about, Wakashi."_ He answered.

He took a deep breath and closed his book after slipping a bookmark. He realised that Jirou must have found out about the severity of Shishido and Ootori’s current relationship, and went to tell Atobe about it. He was truly grateful for his senior’s act, because he himself wanted to hear Atobe’s opinion regarding the whole mess. “I’m listening, Atobe-san.”

_“I’m assuming that you understand the purpose of this call, correct?”_

“Shishido-senpai and Ootori,” He answered straight out, not even being discreet about it any longer. “Did Akutagawa-san told you about it?”

 _“He did, just a couple of hours ago.”_ Atobe replied in a monotone voice that lacked the flamboyance, signalling that he wasn’t taking the news too well either. _“Seeing how you and Ootori were deep in conversation during the welcoming party, you do realise just how things are between them, is that right, Wakashi? Why did you not tell me about this sooner?”_

“My apologies.” The brunette said. “I thought the three of us: Mukahi-senpai, Akutagawa-senpai and I could handle the situation without the need to involve anyone else. However, it seemed like we underestimated the severity of the trouble.”

Atobe was quiet for a moment. He was contemplating whether to tell Hiyoshi about what Jirou just spilled two hours ago or not, but he decided to question how much the brunette knows. Because Jirou had only dealt with Shishido, so he thought that it would be a wiser move to know the matter from another point of view. _“And how is Ootori?”_

Hiyoshi saw the question coming, and he sighed, trying to find the appropriate explanation. “He’s almost gone, Atobe-san.” However, when silence stretched on from the other line, he continued. “He’s intentionally trying to hurt Shishido-senpai. He doesn’t think what he’s doing is wrong at all.”

_“Wakashi, what you are trying to tell me is that Ootori thinks that Shishido deserves the treatment he’s lashing out, correct?”_

“Precisely.” Doubt was absent from his tone of voice. “And Shishido-senpai, how is he, based on the information Akutagawa-san told you?”

 _“I’m afraid that both Ootori and Shishido share the same mindset,”_ Atobe retorted after a few seconds of stillness.

“Atobe-san, you don’t mean…”

 _“Yes,”_ The former captain cut him mid-sentence. _“Shishido found nothing wrong with enduring and accepting what Ootori is unleashing. He also thinks that he deserves the treatment he’s receiving.”_

Hiyoshi bit his lower lips. It was all so fucked up. The relationship between them was messed up that even he was disgusted. He had theorised that Ootori had been abusive towards Shishido, but he had tried to keep his hope up by putting such thought aside.

_“Wakashi, do you think you can still manage to handle Ootori?”_

The brunette gripped a handful of his bed sheet tightly, teeth remained on his bottom lip, trying to gauge just how likely anything he’d say to his childhood friend to be taken into consideration. If just a few days ago he could see the possibility of Shishido and Ootori coming back together, now he couldn’t, tried as he might. Ootori who was far too deep in his grudge—and Shishido who was far too deep in his guilt. All he could visualise in his head is the countdown until they reach their breaking point. And then there would be no return. So, with quivering lips, he whispered.

“No, Atobe-san.”


	14. Shishido is Truly a Wonder Boy

Shishido had slept, and woke up in Jirou’s bedroom. He quickly scrambled off the bed as soon as he saw the clock which pointed at 10 AM. Without any further ado, he silently borrowed his friend’s shower, grabbing the towel that was hung on the back of the door. The brunette swiftly stripped himself off the thin hoodie, shorts and boxers before briefly glancing at the full-sized mirror attached near the sink. Of course, he hadn’t been admiring himself on the mirror or anything as of late, so he didn’t know the state of his being. But it appeared that Jirou’s reaction yesterday wasn’t an overly-dramatised one. Despite wanting to have a quick shower, he found himself staring back at his reflection on the mirror.

Repulsive. That was the only word that came into his head. He had thought that it wouldn’t be pretty, but he certainly didn’t see this coming. Sure, Ootori had been handling him roughly during the past week, but he didn’t know that he was wounded from the shoulder to his stomach, and down to his inner thighs. Shishido couldn’t stand looking at himself any longer, so he made his way to the shower stall and rinsed the fatigue away.

Almost running late, he didn’t bother going back to his apartment, so he dressed himself with the clothes he wore to bed. The brunette then rushed to the car park to fetch his bicycle and drove to the tennis club.

His mind soared back to what happened yesterday, and he could remember the horrified expression on Jirou’s face, something that he doesn’t see very often. Had he say something wrong? Because if his memory hadn’t failed him, he really couldn’t recall ever saying something worth rising an eyebrow on. Was it because he had admitted that he wasn’t trying to run away from Ootori’s treatment? Was that really so wrong? Because for Shishido, it was the wiser option comparing to avoiding his former partner once more, ultimately causing more heartache for the both of them. And he believes that once Ootori had enough of abusing him that way, things would significantly recover from there, and then they would once again build a healthy relationship from zero. Of course, he wasn’t expecting for everything to magically revert back to how it had always been before the incident seven years ago.

And besides, isn’t accepting Ootori’s treatment the best way to discover his true feelings? True that both Gakuto and Jirou had tried to convince him that despite his ex-boyfriend’s now calloused attitude, he was still hiding an unrepenting affection, regardless of the state of their relationship. But it was all just talk if he couldn’t draw out the old Ootori Choutarou by truly understanding him, and he felt that little at it might be, he could slowly start to see the truth behind their words. Because, what about those kisses? What about that gentleness that he experienced yesterday? Truthfully, the brunette wanted to receive such sensation again, and dealing with his former partner head-on seems to be satisfying whatever condition he had. People might say that what he was doing is simply not the smartest decision, but again, he had never been the one to care as long as he attains whatever he wanted. And at the moment, he only wanted to once again see Ootori Choutarou that he had been close with.

Shishido somehow managed to distract himself from his thoughts throughout his shifts, and thanks to the company of fellow tennis coaches who he usually, to be honest, can’t stand. After all, all they did aside from talking about girls is making up lame puns like that Davide dude from Rokkaku.

“Ryou, there’s a limousine waiting for you outside.” Kinpachi tapped him on the shoulder, along with three others who merely nodded.

“Limousine?” He raised one of his eyebrows before something struck him. _What does Atobe want?_ “Che… this is gonna be troublesome.” Shishido ran his fingers through his hair, scratching his head softly. He made his way to the entrance to see a great white limousine and three men in suit waiting for him. If he thought that Atobe would be a tad more modest, well, he was damn wrong. If anything, he seemed to be getting worse and worse each year.

The window slowly slid open, revealing a face Shishido had been expecting all along. He gestured at the brunette to come inside, and he knew that he was in for a ride. He nervously glanced to the side, looking for a way to escape, but after a while of finding no blind spot, he gave in and sat inside Atobe’s limousine.

“You’d better explain,” The shorter male crossed his arms impatiently as the car slowly moved forward.

Atobe seemed to be ignoring him for a couple of second before taking a deep breath. “Shishido, I’d appreciate it if you would start by explaining what’s happening between you and Ootori.” He answered with a sigh, looking at the brunette from the rear-view mirror.

“Urgh…” Shishido grumbled instantly. Why must everyone insist on meddling in their affair? Everyone had been leaving it be for the past seven years, so why now?

Atobe seemed to notice the change in his ex-teammate’s facial expression after he shot the question. Having already anticipate this, he responded. “Do you really think you can handle the current Ootori alone, Shishido?”

“I’ve always handled him alone, haven’t I?” He rolled his eyes while leaning back on the backrest. “And it hasn’t changed. I’ll face him head-on, no matter how much he’s swayed.”

“You are taking this too lightly, Shishido.” Atobe denied him flatly, certain that there was absolutely no way the brunette would be able to hold on much longer. He was surviving, sure. But ‘handling’ doesn’t only mean being able to bear the treatment, but it also covers the ability to reach out and change the situation for the better. “I’ll change my question.” The former captain continued. “Can you bring Ootori Choutarou back?”

Shishido looked out of the car window to see blurred views of the city—the skyscrapers and the people, finding himself in contemplation due to what Atobe had just asked him. His first reflex was to obviously say ‘yes’, but then he realised that he still doesn’t understand just how much this ‘Ootori’ had planted its root inside Choutarou, and how much his submission really altered him—hopefully for the better. But he really wasn’t sure how to approach such question out of the blue. So instead of answering him with thoughtless responses, Shishido remained quiet.

“I heard everything from Jirou and Wakashi—Ootori’s and your side of story. Both of them are struggling to keep up with the rise in the severity of the situation. Naturally, I had thought that you two would be able to sort it out quickly now that you’ve grown, but…” His voice was pensive. “I have a feeling that what I had in mind is far too demanding.”

“I’ll be fine,” Shishido growled at last, hoping that Jirou hadn’t told Atobe that he was now living together with Ootori. But again, the narcoleptic male had always known where to draw the line. “Why don’t you guys just trust me?”

Atobe exhaled deeply before crossing his arms and answered. “Shishido, you have less grip on the changes on Ootori’s attitude compared to Wakashi, that’s what I’m gathering. He had been much better than you in term of understanding Ootori’s feelings, and it greatly concerns me that he admitted to he was unable to support him.”

“Hiyoshi… said that?” Shishido looked up into the rear-view mirror to see a pair of sapphire eyes looking back at him sharply, signifying the fact that he was not at all joking. Hiyoshi and Ootori had been awfully close—they had signed up for the tennis club together and was always seen side by side during practice, or during lunchtime. Even during senior high school, they have never had any major drama—it was definitely thanks to Hiyoshi’s ability to keep his emotion in check, and Ootori’s tendency to understand moods easily. Of course, he had no doubt that Hiyoshi would be trying to talk some sense to the silver-head, given that he understood what was truly happening between them. And in the back of Shishido’s mind, he had silently hoped that the dojo heir would thrive at it.

“Shishido, you can’t blame us for interfering with your relationship. We’ve tied our tongues for far too long and it was one of the worst decisions that we have ever made. So now, instead of leaving matters in your hands, we _will_ intervene with this feud, and nothing you say can stop us.” Atobe said, with equal amount of authority that he had shown as a captain. “Although if you keep refusing to fess up about the truth, sooner or later, we will uncover it ourselves.”

It was no threat. What Atobe was saying was nowhere close to threatening promises, Shishido understood that much. Atobe is not the sort of person who would throw empty words. Once something leaves his lips, he will not take it back that easily. He always knows when to step back or when to act as the arbitrator. And when he is willing to get his hands dirty, everyone recognises that the problem is no longer a laughing matter. Shishido wasn’t sure how to feel about this decree of his—because as far as he was concerned, what was happening between his ex-boyfriend and him is just something that would be easily solved once Ootori opens his eyes.

“Well,” Atobe started with a much lighter tone. “I wasn’t expecting you to be honest with me right off the bat, considering that we have barely talked to each other again.”

“Uh, yeah…” The brunette muttered as he played with his thumbs. “Can I, uhm… get off now?”

“What, you want to get off in the middle of a highway?” Atobe asked, gesturing out of the car.

“Dropping me in my apartment would be a good idea…” He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. Shishido then thoughtlessly gave his apartment address and realised that he fucked up when Atobe raised his eyebrows. Of course he’d remember that location! Ootori would’ve provided him with it… of all the ways for him to find out, it had to be such a stupid way.

Atobe sighed for the third time as he leaned back on the seat, massaging the temple of his forehead—probably in awe upon the ageless carelessness of his ex-teammate. But he decided that it was best to not bring matter up, so he remained still and swapped the topic until they arrived in front of the specified apartment.

After the brunette reluctantly thanked Atobe and disappeared inside the building, the owner of the limousine grabbed his phone to dial Jirou, who, weirdly enough, picked his phone up right away.

 _“Kei-chan… what is it~?”_ He queried in his usual sunny tone, which put ease in Atobe’s mind.

“I talked to Shishido,” The former captain answered, signalling at the driver to start moving the car. “Why didn’t you tell me Ootori and him are living together?” He pinched the bridge of his nose, not understanding why Jirou hadn’t told him such a vital piece of information.

 _“Ahh, you found out?”_ The other male chuckled lightly. Of course he hadn’t planned on planting more worry in his boyfriend’s head, but he knew that Shishido would accidentally slip or give some hints, at some point. He didn’t think it would be so quick, however. _“Sorry, Kei-chan… I just think that it wouldn’t be the wisest decision to burden you more when you’re occupied with work stuff. It’s already bad enough that I opted to spill this…”_

“I wish you would rely on me more aside from supplying you with Pocky,” He sighed in defeat, knowing that when it comes to an infighting within the old regulars, Jirou usually takes matters in his own hands and only tell him when it’s a bit too late.

 _“What else did Ryou-chin say to you?”_ He asked as he let out a big yawn.

“He looked unhappy that I decided to interfere, but he didn’t say anything. I guess even he thinks that everything is getting a little out of control.” Atobe fessed. “Well, if anything big breaks, make sure to tell me from now on.”

 _“Will do…”_ The blonde male responded sleepily. _“Take care, Kei-chan…”_ Jirou said, yawning once more.

“You too, Jirou,” He said softly before hanging up.

* * *

 

Ootori had just arrived home from work. He unlocked the door to the apartment and placed his shoes neatly on the rack before going into his room and putting his bag down, sighing. There had been absolutely no words from Hiyoshi for the past two days, and he was getting slightly worried that he had said too much to his childhood friend. With the hell currently going on in his life, he really wasn’t in the mood to lose another cherished individual.

He exhaled loudly as he sat on his bed and eventually lied down on his back, phone in his hand. He wanted to contact Hiyoshi and apologise if he had said anything wrong due to the spur of the moment, but the male had never been the one to hold anything against him no matter what he says. Besides, they were even—sure, he had yelled at Hiyoshi, but the brunette had snapped him back to his senses by deciding to punch him straight on the face. Ootori stared at the screen and the blinking line as he tried to come up with a sensible greeting to mail his friend. But even after deleting the line ten times, he still couldn’t bring himself to send anything. So, he stood up and opened his laptop to continue working from where he left off that day.

Around one hour into the activity, there was a gentle knock on the door—it was so faint that he thought it was just the neighbour having guests. But he realised that it was directed to him when he heard a soft, hesitant voice.

“Ootori… uhm, if you haven’t eaten already… I, uh… made you dinner.” The voice was wavering and he could only barely hear the last three words that Shishido had said. “…You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to.” He continued before slowly walking away.

The silver-haired male froze on his seat. His brain failed to comprehend what just occurred. After a few minutes of absolute silence, he pursed his lips together and clenched his fists tightly on the base of his laptop. He didn’t want Shishido to act that way. He wanted Shishido to keep thinking that nothing that happened was his fault, and he would keep resisting and pushing Ootori away. Ootori was prepared to deal with that sort of attitude; but this type of scenario… he didn’t even took into consideration. He was at loss of what to say or what to do.

Shakily, Ootori got to his feet and made his way to the door, gently and slowly opening it, peeking outside to see if the brunette was anywhere near the living room. But after seeing no movement, he tiptoed out of his bedroom towards the dining table where there was a plate wrapped in aluminium foil, spoon and fork neatly placed on the sides. He only stared for a few moments, wasn’t sure what to do with it. His heart was pounding a thousand times in a second as he tried to make a decision whether to leave it be or to uncover it. He knew that if he decides to execute the latter, it would be the same as him switching to another path. He would take his first step in forgiving the deed that the brunette had done to him.

_‘Ootori, it’s enough… please don’t try to break yourself apart…’_

“Hnn!” The silver-haired male pressed his fingertips to his head upon hearing an echo in his head. _‘No, no, no, no’_. He thought as loudly as he could, trying to overpower the whispers. He smashed the dining table in process of propping himself up before swiftly turning his head to Shishido’s room. Half-running, Ootori gripped the door knob and turned it aggressively before heavily treaded his way into the room.

“Ootori—“ The brunette yelped, but couldn’t continue as the other male gripped his shoulders forcefully, pushing him back until his back smashed the wall. Shishido could feel the wavering touch of his former partner as they remained on that position for a few seconds.

Then, the silver-haired male let go of his grip to roughly start to undress the man in front of him with such vigour that Shishido thought his clothes would rip. Ootori’s eyes then scanned the frail figure in front of him to see just how badly he was wounded—he never bothered to pay attention to the result of his action, but now that he did… he couldn’t find it in him to further stain the man he loves with his soul. His hands shakily floated mid-air, couldn’t bring himself to look away from the aftermath of his anger.

Shishido noticed the hesitation radiating from the male standing in front of him, unmoving. He reluctantly pressed his palms on his shoulder reassuringly in attempt to calm him down. He was about to let out a voice, but he didn’t have the chance to as Ootori ripped free from his grip and swung his fist forward to smash the brunette on the face. The smaller male didn’t even gain enough time to close his eyes or move away on reflex as Ootori’s fist found its way onto the wall, causing an echo in his ear and sufficient momentum to produce wind that blew his hair. The second he realised what just happened, he looked at Ootori’s hazel eyes, burning with wrath; and he dropped to the floor right away, knowing that if Ootori had aimed for three centimetre to the left, he would’ve broken his jaw.

Ootori glared at the wall in front of him to see blood dripping down from his knuckles, down to Shishido’s side, who was much too paralysed to move. He stayed immobile, breathing so ragged and uneven due to the sudden lightning-quick movement that sent pain throughout his body. He then looked down to see the male in front of him backing himself up against the wall due to the fright that loomed over him. Shishido then shakily moved away from Ootori before standing up and fleeing the apartment as quickly as his rickety feet could take him.


	15. The Wild Shishido Fled

“J-Jirou! Jirou!” Shishido frantically banged on the door of unit #725, eyes constantly scanning his back to see if Ootori was following him or not. He let out a long breath of relief when the door was opened, revealing a short male with a box of Pocky in his hand.

“Is everything alright, Ryou?” He asked, offering one of the chocolate sticks that the brunette shook his head to. Jirou led him inside his apartment unit and closed the door behind them. “Did Chou-chan try anything…?”

“H-he… he… he…” His lips trembled, hands quivering and entire existence wavering.

Jirou dragged Shishido to the sofa and pushed him down in order to calm him down, and that method seemed to work. “Now, explain to me what happened from the beginning.”

The brunette then took a deep breath before explaining that upon coming home, he noticed that Ootori had arrived before he did, and had decided to cook dinner for two, then went and knock on his door to tell him that he could eat it if he wanted to. Of course, it took him five minutes of preparing himself, mouthing what he wanted to say. He hadn’t expected any response, and he got none even after he left for his own room. He anticipated the possibility of what he cooked to remain untouched even when morning arrived, but he did not foresaw the probability of Ootori being so angry at him to the point where he decided that it was best to smash him. However, it was a mighty good thing that he had changed his mind on the last few seconds, otherwise he’d be on his way to the emergency room in the hospital.

“You should give him some time to cool down,” Jirou responded soothingly. “And you need to calm down too. What you did was a little rash, Ryou…” He continued, clearly concerned for his friend’s well-being. Ootori had proved to be awfully difficult to deal with when he loses his temper, and he was certain that such fact would remained unfaltering, or maybe turned worse due to struggles he had to deal with alone. “I have to commend you for being brave enough to do that, though.” He let out a soft laugh.

“I just wanted to show him… that I still do care about him… despite what wrecked us.” The brunette sighed in defeat as he leaned his back on the sofa. “Am I wrong to do that, Jirou?” He questioned, recalling the look that his friend gave him a few days ago as well as the reaction that Atobe had put just a few hours ago. “Have I been… simply too naïve to believe that I can reach out to him…?” He asked shakily, unable to comprehend a thing.

A bright smile grew on Jirou’s lips as he grabbed Shishido by the shoulder and shook him. “No! You’re not wrong for wanting to do that!” He screamed in excitement. “You know, Ryou-chin… I don’t think Choutarou-chan can bear to lay a hand on you if it was merely a decision he made in one day. He would’ve spent so long, maybe months, maybe years to prepare himself to lash out and hurt you this way.” The smaller male smiled cheerfully. “Listen.” He let go of his grip on the brunette just to take his hands. “What you did shook him. You confronted him with two choices. If he decided to eat the food you made for him, he knew that he would be on his way to forgive you. And he simply couldn’t bear the thought of destroying the resentful mindset that he had tried to enforce in him for a long while, so he decided that it was the best decision to further harm you. ‘Shido, this is the only thing that you can do that we can’t.”

“I… made the right… choice?” He questioned, seemingly in disbelief.

“Yep!” He nodded aggressively, the signature grin of his still refused to disappear. “I mean, it was a risky gamble, and I’d rather you not do it alone, but…” Jirou’s voice was tingling with happiness as he moved his friend’s hands up and down. “You did it! And the fact that Chou-chan failed to hit you means that he still hasn’t lose himself completely! He still feels guilty for harming you this way.”

“J-Jirou…” Shishido mumbled, letting the man sitting in front of him to shake his hands again and again. “I… I want him back… I want him back more than anyone… I want to atone for the mistakes that I did…”

Only then Jirou let go of the brunette’s hand and smiled. “I know you do, Ryou.” He sighed and moved closer. “And I hope that Chou-chan will understand your sincerity.”

“I… I love him… Jirou…” Shishido whimpered, trying to dominate the sinking feelings that was starting to eat him. “I’ve always loved him… and I was scared… I tried to run away…” The brunette didn’t dare to face his friend with his eyes full of tears. He clenched his fists as droplets of moisture dripped to the sofa. Then he could feel a warmth covering him.

Jirou moved to hold the broken man sitting next to him reassuringly. “I know, Ryou.” He smiled as he tried to comfort Shishido, whose crying became more and more audible as he slowly realised just how much he had cherished Ootori Choutarou, and how much of him was fractured in the seven years he had tried to convince himself that everything wasn’t his fault. Regret always comes too late, and Shishido Ryou learned his lesson.

* * *

 

Even long after Shishido had scrambled off, Ootori could yet to find the strength he needed to stand up from his kneeling state. His hands were on the ground, as if supporting him from falling over. His knuckles stung, that was for sure. But even that couldn’t make him understand why he had altered his aim the last few miliseconds before his fists made contact with the brunette’s jaw. Yes, he was taken aback by what he had seen behind that clothing, but was that the only reason why his heart had swayed? He hadn’t looked up to meet Shishido’s eyes, so he was certain that it wasn’t the fear reflected in those amethyst orbs of his that made his fist misfired.

He couldn’t comprehend how even after the cruel treatment he dished out, Shishido could still find it in him to repay him with kindness. Even after all those assaults, Shishido could still smile and instead of pushing him away, he tried to pull him closer. He didn’t understand how someone could bear a revenge without running away, tail between their legs. Ootori didn’t want his former partner to inject him with benevolence, ultimately shattering the animosity that he had tried to cling onto—he wanted Shishido to learn that what he did was unforgivable, he wanted Shishido to live in fear of him. He didn’t understand where he went wrong with his plan to drive the man into the edge of insanity. Instead of cornering him, Ootori found himself in more crisis than his target was supposed to be.

The silver haired male took a deep breath and dared himself to get to his feet and turned around to catch a glimpse of Shishido’s messy bed, books scattered all over, and cell phone buried underneath the blanket. The blue light on the top corner was flashing as a sign that a new mail had just arrived. Ootori leaned in to grab the device but stopped short when he saw the handle of a tennis racket preventing Shishido’s closet door to close completely. The male moved away from the bed, walking towards the smaller room and opening its door.

He flicked the light switch just next to the door, making the light from the bulb burst inside the pitch black room. It was quite messy—bags strewn across the floor, tennis equipment here and there, it was a mixed bag full of stuff, just what you’d expect from Shishido. However, something caught Ootori’s attention. Despite the war that seemed like it had taken place in the brunette’s closet, he could spot a small box, just a little smaller than A4, made out of tough fabric, sitting on the top shelf. As if invited, the tall male walked forward and easily grabbed the object. It was surprisingly light despite the height of it; he then placed it outside the closet and opened it.

That moment, he wished he had not allowed curiousity to get the better of him. Because right away, he regretted ever laying a finger on the seemingly harmless item.

Not only was that box full of the letters that he had written for Shishido for valentine’s day, Christmas or moments like such, it was also filled with the gifts that he had given him in their three years of relationships, book full of photos of them, and even the CDs of his violin and piano performance throughout high school. All of them were sorted in chronological order, and were still in pristine condition. With tremor in his hands, he grabbed the pile of paper sitting on the bottom and started to read them one by one.

_To Shishido-san,_   
_You might yell at me for this, but… I still can’t find the courage to give this to you in person… after all, it’s a little embarrassing that a guy gives another guy a valentine chocolate! You don’t have to interpret this as any more than a gratitude for your guidance as a senior. Because after meeting you, I feel like I’ve grown a backbone… I can actually stand up for myself now, instead of relying entirely on Hiyoshi-kun! So, you have my utmost gratitude for that!_   
_From Ootori._   
_P.S. I know you don’t like your chocolate overly sweet, so I stayed up to make you this! I hope you like it (^_^)_

The letter located right on the bottom of the pile was the first ever note that he had ever given him. And despite its existence for over a decade, it still seemed like it was brand new. His eyes slowly moved to the next piece of paper, and the next, and the next, it kept going until he arrived to the last note he had ever dropped in his bag just a few weeks before their separation.

_To Ryou-san,  
You might find it silly that I’m still sending you these notes even when _ _I_ _know we can just text each other. But I guess it’s more special this way, right? (^_^) Once again, I would like to thank you for helping me with my studies! I’ve never been the best at Geography… but you were patient with me. And as a result, I have enough mark to enter the Music College that I really want to go to!_   
_To be honest, my father offered me a ticket to study abroad in America… but I refused him because I want to stay close to Ryou-san all the time. Even after senior high school, you will still stand by my side, right? You have been really kind to me, and I can’t believe how lucky I am to meet someone like you._   
_I love you, Ryou-san._   
_From Ootori._

The note was clearly torn down the middle, but it had been taped again; he could see how the corners were burnt, but none of those blemishes ruined or even smudged the text written in pencil. The only parts that were almost illegible were the ones with stain of tears. That moment, Ootori’s heart crumbled. He continued to scan through the box, their photos together— most seemed untouched, but some others like the pictures they’ve taken in the purikura booth were all crumpled or some torn but ultimately, they were all still in one piece. And nothing had ever hurt him more than that. Not even the seven years where he had lived in sorrow.

All this time, Shishido had been trying to erase the memories he had of Ootori, but never once he succeeded. It could only mean that what the brunette had said that day was truly, as a result of provoked temper. He had truly lived seven years of unfathomable regret, and presumably without anyone to talk about it with. And in those years, Ootori had lived in wrath, forcing himself to loathe the man he loved. He tried to close off his mind as he dumped every reminders of Shishido into the fire, and see the crackling of the flame in the sky. He saw their relationship turning into dust in a matter of seconds. He had been trying to let go, whereas Shishido had been trying to keep it close.

Once again, Ootori was consumed by his thought—did Shishido ever love him? Or was it merely because of his platonic affection that he had kept all those reminders of him neatly? Because to be perfectly honest, Ootori wasn’t sure if he could deal with the latter reasoning. From the moment Shishido had accepted his confession, the silver haired male became head over heels right away—he knew that he wouldn’t be able to live his life in tranquil without knowing that the brunette would remain by his side. He had pushed himself to give a hundred and ten percent to maintain their relationship—to make sure that Shishido was comfortable. Ootori had never been the one to take relationship as an experiment, and the affiliation that he had established with Shishido was of the utmost importance to him.

“U… uh…” He could hear someone making incoherent whimpers and he immediately turned his head to see Shishido on the door, eyes wide open as he witnessed Ootori discovering the box that he didn’t want him to find. Right hand on the doorknob, his lips were visibily quivering. The brunette unconsciously moved backwards due to the nerve. Neither of them dared to say a thing, nor did they know what to expect.

Shishido’s mind went blank right away as he mouthed the word ‘Ootori’, the name of the man who was on his knees before him, with letters, objects of importance and photos scattered across the floor. His wide hazel eyes met his but both of them did not make any significant attempt to flee from the scene.

After a pregnant pause, Ootori stood up, picture of them that had been taken after the nationals still clutched in his hand, he shakily advanced towards the brunette in front of him, who was slowly backing away. When he was only centimetres away from reaching him, Shishido whimpered as he let go of the door knob and he charged out of the room, disappearing from Ootori’s sight once more.

The silver-haired male was still in disbelief upon what he had uncovered; he did not look at the direction in which the brunette had fled, nor did he hear the slamming of the front door. As he leaned his back against the wall, he slid down and managed a pathetic croak of a name that he thought he would never say again.

“Shishido-san…”

* * *

 

The brunette hadn’t left the loft. He was leaning on the front door, but he couldn’t bring himself to open it and hide again. He certainly couldn’t afford to worry Jirou more than he already did an hour ago. But, he wasn’t sure who else to run to. Of course, Gakuto would take him in too, but he really wasn’t in the mood to travel all the way to his place, which was quite far away. Calling him was out of option as well, since he left his cell in his room where Ootori was.

Shishido dropped to the floor, back still against the door. Of all the things Ootori could find in his closet, why must that box caught his attention? Shishido silently cursed himself for not hiding or using a sturdier box and locking it; but there was no use crying over spilt milk. Shishido would be lying if he said that he had never tried to dispose the reminders of Ootori—and it was evident in some of the notes and photos that he left behind. However, Shishido could not stand running away from his feelings—guilt would overtake him and the next thing he realised, he had put out the fire on the corner of the paper. He had spent seven years trying to convince himself that what happened between him and Ootori was really not his fault so that he could throw away the memories of him. But he couldn’t.

Shishido lost track of time; he didn’t know how long he had been sitting on the entrance but when he got up, the clock pointed at ten to twelve in the night, and there had been no sign of Ootori leaving his room. Confident that he wouldn’t be able to get much sleep on the sofa, he took the elevator down to the convenience store on ground floor to relieve himself off the thoughts.


	16. I Feel Sorry for Everyone Around Shishido and Ootori

Ootori woke up the next morning accompanied with soreness all over his body. He had slept on the floor inside Shishido’s room and he could feel his bottom turning numb as he forced himself to get up. It was almost as if he had drunk too much yesterday, which he knew he hadn’t. When he got to his feet, he looked to the side to see nothingness—the notes and the pictures and the box had disappeared, and the closet was tightly shut. Even when he tried to turn the knob, it wouldn’t budge. He would assume that yesterday had been a dream if only he wasn’t magically sitting in the brunette’s room.

He winced as he ran a finger on his shaky knuckles, remembering what had occurred the other night. But then he tried his best to not let it bother him, at least not until later after he finished his work. Ootori then decided it was the best option to cover the bruises with something, so he slowly stepped out of the room—but he wished that he hadn’t.

There was another plate of food, covered in aluminium foil and a piece of note just beside it. In messy handwriting, it simply said:

_‘Eat something.’_

Hesitantly, Ootori placed one hand on the wooden table while the other reluctantly made its way to uncover the foil. Before even uncovering a quarter of the plate, he could already smell the aroma of the food underneath it, making him swallow his saliva. The silver-haired male could feel his heart almost jumping out of his ribcage as he closed his eyes, his fingers clenching the item tightly to uncover the entire plate.

He opened his eyes to see simple white rice, deep-fried smelt and a bowl of miso soup. He had always loved Shishido’s cooking, and the smelt that he cooked was always so beautifully well done. No matter how sour his mood was, or how full his stomach was, when it came to his senior’s deep-fried smelt, he just couldn’t resist it.

“B-Bastard…” Ootori hissed, although it sounded more like a croak. “After all this time… you still remember…” He then pulled the chair back, allowing room for him to sit comfortably before he grabbed the chopstick next to the plate with quivering hand. “I…Itadakimasu…” He whispered to the wind.

As soon as the white rice and a piece of the smelt made its way into Ootori’s mouth, he munched it slowly. And straightaway, he could feel himself holding his breath. The taste had not changed at all. The texture and the flavour was exactly the same as years and years ago, and he could feel his stomach twisting into a knot. He could feel warmth rising in his cheek; it was a warmth that he had not experienced in so long that he thought he forgot how to feel that way.

“No!” He choked back his words, pushing the plate away from him, expecting it to crash on the ground. But he did not hear any noise that sounded remotely like an object shattering. He opened his eyes to see the food stood firm against a small white box with a red cross in the middle of it. A first aid kit. There was another note stuck on it.

_‘Don’t hurt yourself again.’_

Ootori felt his throat suddenly running dry upon reading the harmless piece of paper. Shishido had gone through the trouble to cook for him yesterday night, that morning and he even had bought a first aid kit for him to treat his injured knuckles with. The male sitting on the dining table covered both of his eyes using his hands, could no longer bear the sight.

“What… am I doing…” He moaned as he buried his head inside his crossed arms.

* * *

 

“Oi, Ryou, are you alright?” Tatsuya elbowed the back of the brunette’s head, making him almost toppling forward. “You’ve been looking so frowny the entire day. You didn’t even react to our puns.”

“Uurgh,” Shishido groaned, regaining his composure before shoving him roughly—the other male just laughed. “I have problems, y’know, unlike you who lives his life in daze. Only concerned for tomorrow’s shitty puns.” Tatsuya was about to open his mouth when the brunette quickly said. “Shut the hell up. I’m not listening.”

“Something’s up?” Azusa smacked Shishido on the shoulder. “I’ve never seen you looking this bothered before.”

“Long story,” The shorter male muttered, clearly agitated by the noises around him. He just wanted to go somewhere quiet and drown in his own feelings. “Don’t really wanna talk about it.”

“Ryou-chiiiiiin!” An awfully familiar voice boomed from the entrance and Shishido snapped his head to the side to spot a certain male with lollipop handle dangling off his mouth. He was lying down on the bench, waving at him. “Over here~!!” Gakuto was next to him, wearing a striped loose-necked shirt and trousers.

“Heh?” He cocked his eyebrows upon seeing his two childhood friends. “Oi, Tatsuya, Jin, Asuza. I’m heading off.” The brunette turned back, nodding slightly and gestured goodbye before running towards the two male waiting for him. “What’re you guys doing here?”

“Taking you out for dinner?” Jirou grinned as he slowly got to his feet

“Dinner…?” He asked sceptically. None of them had ever been particularly willing to treat anyone for food, even throughout high school. “Where?”

“In my house!” Gakuto chimed in. “Except I’m not paying.” Of course. “And you’re cooking.”

“…The fuck?!” The brunette raised his voice. How does that even count as ‘taking you out for dinner’?! Of course, he really shouldn’t have trusted them when it comes to stuff like that. “Fine, fine!” He raked his hair in frustration. “It’s been a while since I last cooked for you two anyway. What do you want?”

“Natto!” Gakuto said immediately.

“Go buy that shit in a convenience store, for god’s sake!” Shishido cried out as they made their way into Gakuto’s red car and they drove off.

“More importantly, how’s things going between you and Choutarou, huh?” The redhead started as soon as they faced the first red light. “Is anything getting better?”

“As that topic hasn’t dominated me already…” The tallest male out of the three exhaled deeply, knowing that this kind of discussion would break in sooner or later. “I’m trying, alright? And I think we’re slowly going back to the same wavelength. More or less.” He leaned back on the chair, looking out of the window. “But I can’t find the courage to face him after what happened yesterday…”

“Ryou…” Jirou, who was sitting on the front seat turned his head to face the other male. “You seemed calmer when you left my place, but looking at you now…” He pursed his lips together. “Did something else happen afterwards?”

“You don’t even want to know…” He sighed, taking his cap off and shoving it inside his bag. He then pulled out a bottle of mineral water and gulped the remaining content down in one go before continuing. “He saw what I failed to dispose.”

“Saw… what you failed to dispose?” Gakuto mumbled, still focused on the street ahead. “Oi, oi… you don’t mean…” He trailed off, slowly getting an idea of what Shishido was saying.

“…Did Chou-chan…” Jirou questioned at the same time as the redhead did. If Ootori had really seen what they thought he had seen, then, it could only be either: very good or very bad. There was absolutely no in-between this time. “Ryou… have you been keeping memento of him?”

“More than memento, I’d fucking say,” He smiled bitterly, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked down on his sneakers. “I kept _us_.” He then looked up to face Jirou, and Gakuto using the rear-view mirror. “I… kept the notes, photos and the gifts that he had left me. I collected them in a box and put it aside in my closet, even after all this time.” His voice was quivering with uncertainty. “He found them.”

“And?!” Gakuto raised his voice as he turned the steering wheel when they approached a corner. “And what was Choutarou’s reaction to it all?”

“I didn’t stay to find out.” Shishido shook his head weakly as he said it. “I mean, how could I? He… he gave me this blank look…”

“Alright, alright!” Jirou exclaimed all of a sudden, disrupting his friend’s train of thought and startled Gakuto a little. “Let’s talk about this when we finished eating, ‘kay? Then Ryou-chin will tell us everything. _Everything_ , right, Ryou-chin?” His light-coloured eyes glistened that signalled that what he said was not a request, but an order.

* * *

 

Hiyoshi peeked through the curtain and saw the droplets of rain starting to fall in the backyard, staining his window. Putting the piece of fabric back to its place, the brunette then sat on his bed and sighed loudly. It was getting colder and colder each day and he really wanted to drink hot Milo. Maybe he should go and buy some himself.

He quickly glanced at the clock displayed on the wall, which was pointing at eight fifteen. His father should be arriving back from his meet-up with his friend any time now, and then he could go to the convenience store. He had to wait since his dad had forgotten his key. And that was when the front bell rang, and Hiyoshi quickly walked towards the door to greet the expected guest.

“Welcome home, fa—“ He started when he stopped midway because one: it wasn’t his father, and two: the man in front of him slumped right away, head onto his shoulder. He took a deepest breath, unsure of what to do in such scenario aside from awkwardly hovering his hands mid-air and grabbed the man by the waist. "O... Ootori, can you maybe… let go of me?” Hiyoshi had never been a touchy person, and he wasn’t planning on becoming one any time soon.

“H-Hiyoshi-kun… help me… please… help me… I can’t…” He trembled, voice giving out as he slipped his hands around his friend’s back, clinging so desperately. “Please help me…”

Huh? Okay. Change of plan.

Hiyoshi placed his hand on the rear side of Ootori’s head, stroking his hair reassuringly while the other hand circled and found its way on his back. He didn’t know what suddenly struck the man in front of him to take such drastic action and pleaded for help, but he knew that whatever had occurred in the past two days he remained silent was not at all pleasant.

“Come inside.” He silently whispered when he saw that the rain was getting heavier and heavier. As soon as Ootori was inside, he closed the door behind them gently and turned to face him. “I’ll brew you a cup of tea, would you like that, Ootori?”

The taller male nodded weakly as he sat on the sofa located in the living room. Not so long after that, Hiyoshi came back with a white cup and placed it on the coffee table before he sat down on the sofa perpendicular to the other male. Ootori grabbed the handle of the cup shakily and sipped the warm content before placing it back to the saucer with a light clanking noise.

“You can start whenever you feel comfortable.” Hiyoshi explained softly, understanding the state that his friend was in.

The silver-haired male nodded weakly as he took another tiny gulp off the white tea that the brunette had prepared for him before he parted his trembling lips. “I… I found out he had been keeping the memories of us.” He started. “All… all of them.”

Hiyoshi remained silent, as if trying to digest what Ootori had just informed him. Of course, he had thought that Shishido would’ve retained maybe a couple of pictures of them, but he hadn’t thought that he went to the extent of preserving every single thing that Ootori had given him. He merely put his finger on his chin, nodding as a gesture for his friend to proceed with the explanation.

“H... he tried to dispose of them, I could see it. But, he didn’t succeed…” Those hazel eyes of his were visibly trembling as he looked up to face Hiyoshi. “I burnt them all, Hiyoshi-kun… everything I had that reminded me of him… I burnt them all… But he… he couldn’t…” His voice was raspy as he confessed.

“Ootori, do you still love Shishido-senpai?” Hiyoshi asked, not even trying to be subtle about it.

“I…!” The silver haired male tensed in surprise. “N… no… of course not…” He lied through his teeth. “Why would I love someone like that…”

The brunette shook his head lightly, after receiving a contradictory statement to the one he had said a few days ago. He wasn’t exclusive, any one of the former regulars would not fall for such lie. They all understood the extent of Ootori’s feelings. “Say that you really don’t feel any special affection for him anymore,” Ootori faintfly flinched upon hearing those words. “Why are you getting so worked up? It’s not a big deal, right?”

“Of course it is!” The male denied sharply. “It _is_ a big deal, Hiyoshi-kun… that means he lied to me…”

The shorter male sighed and he sat up straight. “You’re saying that he lied when he was lying to you. Doesn’t that mean he was telling the truth the entire time?” Ootori remained silent as Hiyoshi took a deep breath. “You’re confusing yourself, Ootori. Tell me straight up. Are you mad at him for keeping the fact that he reciprocate your affection, or is it because you feel guilty for lashing him a treatment that he does not deserve?”

The silver-haired male bit his lower lips, not knowing what the correct response would be. With all his might, he clutched the fabric of his black pants, finding himself once again in a conflicting situation where he could feel two consciousness fighting for dominance. One part of him desperately wanted to break down and admit his mistakes, and the other one wanted to maintain its pride by disregarding what he had seen yesterday.

“Haven’t you had enough of doing this?” Hiyoshi moved closer, putting his hand on Ootori’s shoulder softly. “Why do you insist on changing yourself? What do you want to prove, Ootori? That you’re superior compared to Shishido-senpai?” His voice dropped. “Yes, he hurt you, and you hurt him. But in the end of the day, you treasure each other equally.” Then he gripped his shoulders firmly, shaking him so that they would stand face to face. “Turn back, Ootori.”

“A-after what I’ve done…?” He choked back his words, remembering those times he had sexually assaulted his former boyfriend—when he decided to snap like that, he knew that there wouldn’t be any turning back. Even if Shishido forgives him, he wouldn’t be able to live with it. “I… I… Hiyoshi-kun… I didn’t just physically abuse him…” His eyes lost all of its light in a click of a finger as he stared deep into his friend.

Hiyoshi’s heart skipped a beat, upon the sudden realisation that struck him. _‘No… it can’t be…’_ , He thought. After all, even in his wildest dream and imagination, not even once such idea ever seep into any corner of his mind. If the idea of physical torture seemed farfetched when it lined up side by side with Ootori, what he had in his mind…

Ootori Choutarou chuckled darkly, in complete loss of what he should do; his expression was that of a twisted man. “I… raped him, Hiyoshi-kun. Not once, not twice… I raped him almost every day...”

The brunette’s fingers trembled as he slowly let go of the silver-head’s shoulders and got to his feet immediately, grabbing Ootori by the collar and yanking closer to his face.

“OOTORI, YOU JERK!” He roared in utter disbelief due to what the man in front of him had admitted. “How are you any better than Shishido-senpai?! You… you did not have any right to badmouth him all along!” Hiyoshi thundered in extreme frustration, rage and disappointment as he pushed Ootori back to the sofa, releasing the grip on his clothes. “Listen, I don’t _care_ about how shattered you are at this point. To think that you have sexually toyed with him… you… you’re… you’re not Ootori…” He felt a lump on his throat after he said it. If the man in front of him wasn’t about to cry, he was.

Because what else was he supposed to do? He felt like he was inadequate, even for Ootori—Ootori didn’t trust him enough to share the burden that he had to carry. He shouldered everything alone until he completely tumble in front of his breaking point.

“Help me, Hiyoshi-kun…” Ootori whimpered pathetically. “I don’t know what to do anymore… I… I want to die…” His voice was quivering, lament written all over it.

In an instant, Hiyoshi’s vision blurred due to the tears he had to desperately hold back, but he gave in as soon as he saw just how broken Ootori looked as he pleaded for aid. The brunette then leaned down to hold the taller man in his arms, as if trying to stop him from having suicidal thoughts.

“I… I’m sorry, Ootori… I really can’t help you…” He sobbed into his shoulder. “I’m not capable enough… I didn’t know how badly you were suffering… If I had known… I wouldn’t have left you on your own…”

“Hi…yoshi…kun…” He choked with his eyes closed and body completely limp in the embrace. “I want it all to be over… I’m sick of fighting…”

“Yes,” Hiyoshi replied back weakly as he tightened his arms around Ootori. “We’ll settle everything by the end of this week… I promise, Ootori. I won’t have you suffering for any longer.” Pulling back after a moment of silence, Hiyoshi’s worst nightmare once again came true when he still spot no trace of tears on Ootori’s cheeks. He could only see endless void in those brown eyes.

* * *

 

Time ticked on unforgivingly despite the silence that conquered the dining room and the three males sitting around the table, empty plates lying in front of them. Both Jirou and Gakuto were far too stunned to respond to what Shishido had just confessed to them around one minute ago. Sure, they asked for it, but they had no idea that the truth would be so dismal and nefarious. Even after the fifth minute had passed, none of them dared to react more than twitching of eyes and fingers.

“Choutarou did that…?” Gakuto whispered so faintly that no one would have guessed that it was coming from the loud redhead. Even Jirou was equally paralysed. “Ryou… you’re… joking right…?”

The brunette looked down to his lap as he bitterly commented. “Stop that! It’s not that important. What’s more vital here is—“

“Ootori _raped_ you, Ryou. What do you mean it’s _not_ important?” Jirou narrowed his eyes, lips parted in complete loss. “He _raped_ you the day you two practically met again… surely, you’re not going to tell me that’s insignificant?”

“Yeah, he raped me. So what?” Shishido replied sternly, taking the other two males completely by surprise. “That was nothing compared to what I’ve put him through.”

Unexpectedly, Jirou stood and he slammed the table with both of his hands, the plates and cutleries jumped as a result. “Don’t joke around!” He howled threateningly, making even Gakuto shivered in horror. “It doesn’t matter how good of an excuse someone has. Rape is rape. There’s no changing that fact.”

The redhead then turned to face Shishido who was unmoving. “Jirou’s right, Ryou. You can’t expect us to take this lightly. Ootori has absolutely zero right to do that to you. I don’t care how hurt he is. He should’ve known better than assaulting you in that way.”

The tallest male of the three clicked his tongue as he looked away. “Of course it’s a big deal for me! Or should I say… was.” He muttered. “After the first few days, I found myself letting him do whatever he wanted to me.” Steady in his voice, Shishido turned back to face his friends. “I gave him my consent. It’s no longer a rape.”

Jirou sat back down, completely defeated. He knew that arguing with the stubborn man in front of him would be futile. But he still wasn’t able to put out the fire in his heart, because what Ootori did was absolutely unforgivable.

“Ootori is the type to carry everything himself, that’s what worries me the most.” Shishido explained. “H… he thought the whole relationship was a lie, so he decided to lash out. But now he found out that… it wasn’t…” He gulped restlessly. “I don’t know what the consequences of that realisation is. I don’t want him to stoop any lower than this…”

Gakuto crossed his arms on the wooden table. “Well, what do you think you should do, Ryou?”

“No, Ryou. You can’t simply let him do whatever he wants. That’s not a proper way to solve this mess.” Jirou announced, as if reading his friend’s thoughts. “What Ootori did was wrong, but I’m not saying you’re in the right either. Both of you are equally at fault and now the both of you have to talk it out.”

“Are you crazy?!” Shishido yelled instantly as a response, then he lowered his voice when he realised how loud he was being. “That’s madness. Ootori never once listened to me.”

“Ryou, it’s going to be so simple to tell Kei-chan about this. I only have to say the word, and he _will_ evict Ootori out of your residence, moving him to another. Because Chou-chan doesn’t have the right to say no, due to the way he had been treating you.” Jirou retorted. “But doing that won’t do any good. None of you will stop getting hurt.”

“Yeah,” Gakuto agreed. “Facing him is the only option you have, because there’s absolutely no way that you can fuck this up again.” He then leaned closer to Shishido, from the other end of the table. “The only other mistake you can make is doing nothing about it.”

“Gaku-chan is right,” Jirou jumped out of his seat. “’Shido, you know… based on the story you told me yesterday, it seems to me that Chou-chan thinks that it’s too late to turn back… I mean, I didn’t see what he did with my own eyes, so I might not have a place to say this but…” He trailed off, hesitating for a moment. “I think he feels guilty… but he constantly tries to blind himself with the notion of revenge. And that’s where he starts losing himself.” He then quickly rushed to Shishido’s side and grabbed him by the shoulders. “If this is true, then, it’s not you who needs to be given a second chance anymore.” He whispered. “It’s _him_.”

“J-Jirou… you do realise that this sounds… farfetched… right?” The brunette let out a humourless chuckle.

“Ryou, you _have_ to talk to him.” Gakuto pressed. “I’m sure you two will be able to come to an understanding.”

“And if Ootori turns you down this time, it won’t be your fault.” Jirou’s drilled his eyes into Shishido’s with overpowering intensity. “Give him a second chance, Ryou. If at the end of the day you two decide to go separate ways, then it’s over, and none of you can lose anything. But…” His smile grew, as if his face had been split in half. “If he forgives you, and more importantly _himself_ , then that means you can slowly build on what you have destroyed; this time, together. None of you would have to be alone anymore.”


	17. It's Gonna be Over Soon I'm Sorry

Ootori didn’t know just how many glasses of alcohol he had, nor how many types he had consumed. Beer, wine, whiskey, vodka, just say the type and Ootori was certain that he had drunk that type at least once that day.

It was Friday night. Of course, the time where people would gather in a night club and the party would commence, regardless of what date it was. It was such a miracle that Ootori could conclude his work that day without murdering anyone, because he really had been on the edge lately, especially due to what happened yesterday.

Okay, fine. He was being all sappy and ridiculous yesterday to the point where _Hiyoshi_ had to hug him. Hiyoshi had never been a very cuddly man. But all those emotions the day before ultimately just added to his lousy temper that night. And lousy temper meant one thing:

“More, please,” Ootori screeched from the other side of the counter, holding his glass up with his fingers like how a claw machine would grab a doll; and he shook the clear container, the ice inside clanking in process. The bartender only shook his head lightly, probably thinking about what a goner that man would be by the end of the night. But he put out no complain as he poured what was left in the bottle.

The silver-haired male was attracting attention as he took a large gulp of the alcohol in his glass and took a deep breath. “Gods, that was good.” His fingers started trembling as he placed the object back on the counter, slowly undoing his tie. His body was burning, and alcohol was all there was to blame. “Huff…” He exhaled deeply, covering his hand with his face. “Three more bottles. Those ones.” He grabbed his wallet out of his pocket and waved some notes, placing them on the desk.

The bartender merely nodded at the cashier not far from him, and she approached, giving Ootori back his change.

“Bad day, sir?” He asked as he passed the three bottles that Ootori had taken interest in to his side.

“Bad life, more like,” The silver-haired male laughed out loud, face clearly flushed. “First love is always so deadly, eh…” He continued chuckling.

“Always the most memorable, though.” His name tag read Sakurada Tanamichi.

“Unfortunately, hm?” Ootori rested his chin on his hand as he took another sip, finishing up the rest of the alcohol. He motioned at one of the bottles next to him, and Sakurada uncorked it for him. “Appreciate it.”

“I wouldn’t have thought someone with the look like yours would get dumped,” He joked.

“Flattery,” The silver-haired male laughed, grabbing the bottle and pour the content to fill his empty glass. “Looks can only get you so far, I guess.” He commented bitterly while thinking to himself. _‘Attitude also gets you nowhere sometimes.’_

By the time Ootori finished the bottle, he could count around five missed calls that he didn’t even bother looking at. He had only told Hiyoshi and Atobe regarding his new number, so it would only be from either of them, and he really wasn’t in the mood to pick it up. Besides, he was certain that his speech would be a little slurred, and they would raise any unnecessary concerns. Ootori desperately wanted to be left with his own devices that day.

“I wanna go back to America…” He heaved a deep sigh as he grabbed his second bottle. It was going to be a long, long night for him.

* * *

 

Shishido glanced at the clock for the fiftieth time that day, and outside his window. It was pouring out there, and the weather forecast said that there was a big chance of storm during the midnight. He could starting to see the unbearable wind blowing the trees and shop signs outside; pedestrian’s umbrellas also proved to be ineffective against the rain as they were simply not sturdy enough.

Ootori wasn’t home yet.

The brunette palmed his phone nervously. He was starting to think of the worst as he nervously stole a glance on the door of his closet before he gave up and unlocked the room to retrieve a box that he hid in hurry the day before yesterday. He opened it to see a mess of unsorted piece of papers.

Shishido swung his hand to shove the box off the bed, its content scattered on the floor. Pulling his legs closer and hugging his knees, he buried his face. “Why… Why did I have to meet you…” He pathetically whimpered as he peeked through his knees to see a picture that Ootori had been holding in his hand that day. It was a picture of them, taken after Hyotei won the nationals in senior high school nationals. He remembered Gakuto was the one who snapped it. Of course, initially Shishido had refused to pose, but when Ootori grab him by the shoulders and grin, he couldn’t help but raise his hands to do the peace sign.

One of his bare feet touched the cold ceramic tile in attempt to lean in and grab the photo.

“Chou…tarou…” He choked back his speech as he stroked the smooth surface of the picture gently. “Choutarou…” Lying down on the bed, he cried out once more. His knees moved up to curl themselves before his other hand travelled to grab his phone. The empty black screen stared back at him, and the male closed his eyes, weighing what options he had. After a resolve hit him, he quickly dialled a number from his contact, which was picked up after three beeps.

“Atobe…” Still curled on top of the white blanket, Shishido weakly whispered. “I need to ask you something.”

 _“Shishido?”_ The other male responded, clearly puzzled because he had never received a phone call from the brunette. _“What is it?”_

“Did Ootori leave the office already…?”

 _“Yes, a while ago.”_ Atobe licked his lips, not certain how to interpret that kind of query. But after a short while, he continued _. “I tried contacting him already. But he’s not responding.”_ His voice was contemplative. _“He didn’t look very well today in the office, so I was worried.”_

“Does Hiyoshi know his whereabouts?” The brunette questioned once more, feeling his heart beating faster than before.

 _“Negative,”_ He answered. “ _I was about to dial you a minute ago. I thought he would have arrived back in the apartment by now, but obviously not.”_ Atobe parted the phone from his ear to navigate through a list of contact and gently pressed on the screen when he found the correct one.

They didn’t have to wait for long as the third person picked up right away. _“Did you find Ootori already, Atobe-san?”_ Although it was concealed, everyone could tell that he was trying to catch his breath.

“Hiyoshi! Ootori… where’s Ootori!”

The tone of the voice was clearly not Atobe’s, Hiyoshi thought. _“Shishido-senpai. W-we have to find Ootori now.”_ He stammered, breathing clearly uneven and the sound of rain was drumming in everyone’s ears.

“Calm down, Hiyoshi!” The phone was pressed closer towards his ear as an attempt to listen closer to what he had to say. “Did something happen to him? Why are you stuttering?”

 _“O-Ootori… yesterday…”_ There was a pause before a grim voice continued. _“He was talking about killing himself.”_

“What?!” Shishido grabbed his phone with both of his hands, absolutely terrified what such confession could result to.

Immediately, all three of them hung up. Atobe and Shishido rushed to the front door, putting on whatever they could find and ran outside into the rain.

It was pouring mercilessly and Shishido was immediately soaked but he could really care less. Recklessly, he crossed the road, eyes constantly scanning his surroundings to spot a familiar silver-head. He bumped onto other pedestrians who only eyed him in frustration repeatedly, but not even that could stop him from his trail. Shishido ran, ran and ran as far as his feet could take him, through the rain.

_‘Ootori… Ootori… please don’t do anything reckless…’_

Whispering to himself as he slowed down, he tried to catch his breath, still looking around for his former partner. Even without any leads regarding his location, Shishido’s legs didn’t stop moving. He crossed the empty park and the equally quiet street tennis court, in hope of gaining result. But he still failed to find the man he was looking for. Heart thumping loudly inside his chest, he slapped his hands onto his knees, catching his breath.

 _‘Where are you, Ootori…’_ In mid-desperation, he found himself wondering, drenched in rain water. With his eyes closed, he walked to the road to get to the other side.

“Shishido!” A voice boomed from beside him, and turned his head to see Atobe inside a black sedan car. “Come inside!” He screamed out, making the other male nodded weakly before opening the door and sat inside the car, absolutely soaked from hair to toe. “Have you lost your mind?!” He raised his voice once the male settled inside before throwing a spare jacket that he had lying around.

“This is life and death, Atobe!” Shishido yelled, not any less loud than the former captain. “As we’re talking, Ootori could… Ootori could be—“

“Calm down!” Stagnant was definitely not the correct word to describe his facial expression at that given moment. “Crossing the road without being wary of your surroundings like that. Do you have a death wish?” After a moment of silence, his face softened and he turned to start moving the car. “Get changed.”

The brunette ran both hands through his hair in attempt to dry it before he slid his clothes above his head, wiping his body with it. He was grateful for Atobe's intense focus on the road because thanks to that, he didn't look to the side and discover the bruises all over him. No words were exchanged as he put on the jacket that Atobe gave him. The two of them continuously scanned everywhere around them to find Ootori. The brunette bit his lower lips impatiently.

_‘If he had never found that box…’_

“Shishido, blaming yourself at this point isn’t going to make situation any better.” As if reading Shishido’s mind, the former captain broke the silence that conquered them.

“But… it’s my fault that it comes to this… If he hadn’t found the mementos I’ve kept…” Shishido kept his head down, his whole body trembling as he gripped the sides of his head with his hands. “If I have never existed maybe… maybe everything would be better…”

The car suddenly came to a complete stop, jerking the brunette forward. The next thing he noticed was Atobe’s hands grabbing his clothes, yanking him forward. With blaze in his sapphire eyes, he opened his mouth and hissed. “Don’t even joke about that, Shishido.”

The brunette could manage nothing but incoherent whimpers, hands remained on his head and eyes looking down.

“Ootori had always been too polite, too kind for his own good. He had always been scared of hurting anyone. And because of that, he was always distant—he bottles up everything despite having Wakashi by his side. He had always been the type to refuse burdening others with his own problem. But you…” Atobe shook the man in front of him. “You were able to reach out to him. Because of you, he was able to open up to everyone. _You_ gave him courage, Shishido. _You_ were his world, and still are.”

“Yet…” The smaller male denied, voice clearly quivering and hardly audible due to the rain. “I was the one who took everything away from him…”

“Yes,” Atobe leaned in closer. “You did.” His voice was stern and firm. “But despite that, he still loves you, Shishido. You give Ootori something that none of us could provide him with.” Letting go of Shishido, Atobe tapped him on the shoulder. “You have to continue to be his strength.”

“Be his strength…” The brunette shivered, amethyst eyes visibly shaking.

“Ootori shattered because you weren’t there to support him.” He continued. “And the day you decided to submit to him was the day he believed that he had lost any strength he needed to get back up. Because if his source of encouragement bends, what is left for him?" Shishido slowly but surely lifted his head up, releasing the grip of his hands on it. “Only you can bring Ootori back, Ryou.”

“A-Atobe…”

The phone in Atobe’s pocket rang and he quickly withdrew to pick it up.

 _“Atobe-san, I found Ootori!”_ Hiyoshi raised his voice from the other line. _“I’m taking him back to the apartment. What’s the address?”_

The former captain recited the location of his residence, and he briefly glanced at Shishido, who was far more silent than before, before driving back to the apartment.

* * *

 

Of all the place to find Ootori Choutarou, it had to be near the dumpster close to Gakuto’s sweet shop. Hiyoshi located him exactly when he toppled with two half-empty bottles of alcohol gripped in his trembling hands. Falling head first onto the tied-up black rubbish bags, he spewed all over them, dropping the glass bottles and they shattered on the concrete ground.

“Ootori!” The male ran to his side, just in time to see him turning around in attempt to lie down on the rubbish pile, on top of his own puke. “Get yourself together!”

“I found… the mushroom…” The silver-haired male grinned, laughter echoed throughout the narrow passageway. Hiyoshi didn’t even have to try, he could easily smell cigarette and alcohol from the air that Ootori breathed out. “Mushroom…!”

“Mushroom, mushroom my ass!” Voice seething with frustration, the brunette heaved Ootori, one arm around his shoulder. “So heavy…” He groaned, struggling to walk right. It was a good thing that the rain had mostly ceased so he had no unnecessary weight to bear on him anymore.

Ootori mumbled something that sounded like ‘I tried to keep my calorie intake under control’ as Hiyoshi dragged him into the cab that he hailed and dumped him inside. When the last of his foot were inside, he closed the door and went into the cab from the front-seat door. The driver only laughed as Hiyoshi groaned in frustration, telling him their destination. After calling Atobe, he quickly glanced to the back, where Ootori seemed to be asleep, although still giggling in his slumber. That kid was going to have one hell of a hangover the next day, and Hiyoshi felt sorry for him right off the bat.

Once the cab came to a complete stop in front of the destination, Hiyoshi pulled Ootori out and hauled him over his shoulder towards Shishido and Atobe, who were standing on the entrance with genuinely concerned expressions. Both male visibly winced upon breathing in the stench of smoke and alcohol but they did nothing except drawing closer to help Hiyoshi who was struggling propping Ootori alone.

They quickly entered the elevator and the spiky-haired male pressed the number eight to make it start moving. One of Ootori’s arms around his shoulder, he could hear the constant heavy breathing from the male next to him, head tilted down to the ground.

“Are you alright, Shishido-senpai?” The noise of the machineries dominated the silence before Hiyoshi started.

“… Yeah.” He responded, grasping the fact that the other brunette knew what was happening between them. Chances were that Ootori decided to spill everything last night.

Both of them were focused on the ground, Atobe standing in front of them, trying to interpret the question and got his answer as soon as he turned around to see bite marks across Shishido’s neck. Of course, he had suspected that sexual violation would take place, but he didn’t know that Ootori would be capable of actually doing it. And it seemed like he wasn’t the only one surprised by it, considering the manner in which Hiyoshi had asked such question.

“Shishido.” The former captain crossed his arms, still having his back facing him.

“Sorry,” The shorter male noticed how Atobe eyed his neck and shoulder. “I should’ve told you guys sooner.”

The lift doors slid open, and they moved forward into room 723. Hiyoshi was about to pull Ootori’s wallet to fetch the keys, but was taken aback when he saw that Shishido was holding the master key. No wonder their relationship seemed to fracture in an alarming rate—they had been living together. Once again, he cursed himself for failing to notice such important fact.

Having noticed Hiyoshi’s uneasiness, Atobe placed his hand on his shoulder, nodding at him faintly as if trying to console him and convince him that nothing was his fault.

When Shishido pushed the door into Ootori’s room open, all three conscious male immediately backed away and grumbled upon smelling the disgusting stench that leaked out of the Ootori’s room.

“This place… smells of death…” Hiyoshi murmured as he quickly dumped the man on his shoulder onto the bed and opened all windows that were closed. Afterwards, he grabbed the empty bottles of alcohols and the remains of cigarette to throw them to the bin outside.

“Shishido, is it alright if we let him rest in your room?” Atobe looked at the brunette, who was trembling in fear upon realising what he turned Ootori into. He then slowly turned towards Atobe, nodding weakly. “We’ll need some dry clothing too.”

While Hiyoshi was busy spraying room freshener into the drunk male’s room, Atobe and Shishido were occupied with drying Ootori and outting fresh clothings on. Hiyoshi then approached Shishido’s room to check on Ootori, but Atobe emerged and stopped him from getting in. The former captain only motioned his head to the side, telling him to see for himself.

Clearly for safety purposes, Atobe had lied Ootori on the side so he wouldn’t choke on his own puke in the middle of the night. Shishido was sitting on a chair that he dragged from his desk, lower arms were placed on his thigh and eyes casted down to the man who was on the bed. Even from the distance, Hiyoshi could tell that the brunette was trying hard to choke back his tears through the gritting of his teeth. Understanding why Atobe stopped him, Hiyoshi nodded as he grabbed the door knob.

“Take care of Ootori, Shishido-senpai.” He said before closing the door gently.

“…I will…” Shishido said, voice breaking upon gazing at the pitiful sight laid before him.

The chair soon became unoccupied as the brunette kneeled beside his former partner, one arm sprawled underneath his neck and the other around, in attempt to hold him. “Choutarou…” The sound was muffled as a result of Shishido burying his face on the curve of Ootori’s neck, one hand running to delicately stroke his soft curls.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” He croaked dolefully as he held the man who had devoted his entire heart for the brunette, the man whose love for him was so vast he found himself feeling inadequate to contain it; the man who doesn’t deserve any of this.

“Choutarou, I’m sorry…” He said once more, cries engulfed by the unforgiving night.


	18. It's Not the End Yet Sorry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops, one more chapter to the end!

_"Five o'clock. I'll be waiting for you."_

Ootori's eyelids gradually fluttered open and he winced upon seeing the sunlight that lit the room. Snow white curtain attached on both sides of the window blew due to the cool autumn breeze, hitting Ootori who flinched, head spinning. He uncovered the blanket, silently wondering what happened yesterday night-- the last thing he remembered was leaving the night club... Did someone find him lying on the street?

However, he realised after a moment that he was, without a doubt, inside Shishido's room. Ootori had no slightest clue how he ended up there but he didn't have the time to think as he dragged himself to the sink, clutching the edges tightly in order to prop himself up. And he threw up. It was definitely up there with his worst hangovers ever. Feeling a little better after emptying the alcohol from his belly, he washed his face and wiped it clean with a dry towel before heading back to the empty room.

The rather tall figure stayed idle, one hand on the door frame, eyes closed. He was trying to regain his somewhat lost balance. After the stillness dragged on, he opened his eyes and walked out of the bedroom, into the living room. It proved to be just as silent as the room, signifying that no one was there. When he turned his head to face the dining area, he could see a glass of spring water with a lid on, and a plate filled with a few slices of bread and jam on the side waiting for him.

Finding his fingers still shaky, the glass almost slipped out of his hand, but he saved it, only sacrificing a quarter of the content. He gulped it down and placed it gently back on the table, hands clenched as he stared on the plate. All he could of was _'why?'_

Why would Shishido do this for him? It had been almost two weeks since they met again, and all those times, Ootori had always been rough in the way he spoke and acted towards the brunette-- there was no sensible reason why he would repay such abuse with kindness. Shishido could've moved to another apartment if he wanted to, but somehow he didn't. Ootori couldn't begin to imagine the reason behind it all. If it was merely a feeling of guilt, he couldn't possibly bear the treatment that he lashed out.

Thinking about the matter invoked more throbbing in his head. He decided to sit down and refill the glass with the jug of still-warm mineral water on the desk and drank it until he eased up. Once his consciousness became stable, he poured another glass of water and took it to the sofa, as well as the plate of bread. Ootori turned on the television, slowly chewing the food to fill his empty stomach. He hadn't been eating properly as of late—mostly snacks and yoghurt to satisfy his growling tummy, so it felt really nice to finally swallow _something_.

Staring at the news on the television, Ootori fuzzily recalled a voice when he was sleeping. It could easily pass as a dream, but he had a feeling that it wasn't. It sounded like Shishido. Shishido was speaking to him.

 _'Waiting for me...'_ He thought to himself, mouth still busy chewing the bread with apricot jam. ' _Where?'_ Lying down on his side, one arm supporting his head, he spaced out. He came back to planet Earth when the front bell was rung. Ootori heaved a sigh as he stood up and peeked to see his guest-- whose identity is Atobe Keigo.

"Atobe-san, come inside!" The silver-haired male beamed, opening the door wide. The guest smiled back thinly before neatly placing his shoes on the rack. "It's unusual for you to be free, even during weekends." He smiled sheepishly as he closed the door shut.

"Even the great I need his days off too, you know," Atobe made his way to the sofa, smirking. "Recovering from the alcohol, Ootori?"

"Eh?" The taller male blinked. "You were the one who took me back, Atobe-san?" He sat on the sofa.

"Hiyoshi found you throwing up in the dumpster somewhere," said Atobe as he crossed his arms. "Don't do that again, Ootori. You made us worried."

"Sorry..." Ootori muttered apologetically. "Things have been quite hectic for me..."

"And are you looking to solve it?" Atobe questioned, eyes fixed on the figure in front of him.

"It's not that easy, unfortunately, Atobe-san." He scratched his head in uncertainty. "The problem is bigger than you think."

"Do you trust Shishido, Ootori?"

The male jerked his head upwards, suddenly finding himself gazing into Atobe's sapphire eyes which seemed to be looking into his soul. "Atobe-san, you knew?" He frowned. "Ah! You must've seen him in my apartment..."

The former captain opened his mouth. "He was crying." That proved to be effective in further drawing his conversational partner's attention. "He's blaming himself for what happened."

Ootori fisted the fabric of his pants, expression stiffening as much as he hated giving such look to someone he had been respecting for his whole life. "Atobe-san, are you saying he's wrong to think that it's his fault?"

"You know that I wasn't trying to say that." He sighed as placed his hands on the knee of his crossed leg, intertwining his fingers. "You've seen it yourself, I'm sure. The amount of guilt he's experiencing is abnormal." Continued Atobe. "Do you really think anyone rational would be able to take the physical, mental and sexual abuse that you're dishing out, Ootori?" His eyes were sharp and unforgiving, as was his voice.

The accused male could only grunt, knowing that he couldn't deny the words that came out of his former captain's lips. Hiyoshi had approached this sensitive matter with impatience and anger which planted more emotion inside Ootori, whereas Atobe pinpointed the problem with nothing but calmness. He found himself unable to come up with any coherent response.

"I'm not like Wakashi." Atobe started, as if on cue. "I'm not here to make you feel comfortable. I'm here to let you know that what you're doing is intolerable, no matter how good of a reason you might have in mind."

Ootori knew that it was unacceptable, he did. But he continued to act it out regardless of the consequences that lied in front of him. All those time, he tried to convince himself that Shishido had simply deserved it, and that he was doing nothing wrong but letting him taste what was given to him in a silver platter.

"I'm not going to convince you that Shishido loves you back, nor am I trying to say that everything will be back to what it was a decade ago for the two of you." The former captain declared with authority, pressing the main point of his visit. "But as you are now, there is no longer anything to lose. Your attitude completely shatter what little you had left. You only have two options, Ootori." He leaned back on the sofa, eyes refused to leave the male sitting close to him. "Walk away before you destroy Shishido, or start anew with him."

Atobe knew that he had hit all the sore spots when the silence from Ootori’s part dragged on. All he could muster was frustrated groans, but that was the outcome that he had anticipated. His job there wasn’t to understand his feelings or comfort him like what Hiyoshi had been doing. He was there to harshly point out the truth from an outsider’s point of view, and open Ootori’s blinded eyes.

“Well,” The man with the mole stood up after uncrossing his legs, gracefully straightening his shirt before tapping the other male lightly on the shoulder. “I prefer to stay and catch up a little more, but I figure you can use some time alone. This isn’t a light problem, after all.” He smirked before walking off towards the entrance and putting his shoes back on. “Stay hydrated, Ootori.” That statement was all that was heard of him before the door was closed.

* * *

 

“Shishido-senpai!” Hiyoshi raised his voice slightly as soon as he noticed the other brunette walking down the street, head swapping between looking left and right with phone on his hand. Upon hearing his name being called out, he waved and approached him, pulling back the chair outside the café to sit down. “Sorry to call you out so suddenly.”

“No problem. I figured Ootori needed some space to think, so I decided to hit the court. I've done enough exercise for the day.” Said Shishido as he put the bag over his shoulder next to the chair. The waitress then passed them two small menu books and both men skimmed through it. “I’ll have your chocolate frappe, please.”

“And I’ll have your hot chocolate.” Hiyoshi said calmly, putting the menu on the side. The waitress confirmed their order, bowing lightly and left with the books in her hands. “I don’t see you consuming sweets all that often, Shishido-senpai.”

The brunette laughed. “It’s a habit I develop overtime, I guess. They’re especially nice after some exercise.”

“I know what you mean,” The smaller male answered calmly. However, when he eyed the man sitting in front of him, their expressions turned grim immediately.

“I’m sorry. I know how much you value Ootori. You must hate me now, right?” He chuckled humourlessly, scratching his head awkwardly.

“I’m ticked off, yes.” The male muttered flatly. “He doesn’t deserve any of this.”

“I know…” He looked down to his lap, hand rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably. “I was an idiot for doing that to him.” Silence stretched between the two men, and Shishido interpreted it as a cue to continue. “I promise I’ll sort this out.”

“You better.” Hiyoshi responded right away, eyes fixed on the clearly uneasy brunette in front of him.

They then became still once more, and neither had no idea how many times had passed but the next thing they saw was their orders on the desk. Shishido pinched the straw on his drinks and pulled it to the surface, sipping a little of the cream on the top before lightly stirring it around.

“Shishido-senpai, I still have my doubts.” The dojo heir started, taking Shishido by surprise. “I still don’t think you can make Ootori happy.”

“I guess… anyone would think that after what I’ve put him through…” Regret was audible in his bitter tone as he smiled somewhat sombrely. “I’m also unsure whether I’m the right person for him or not. Ootori deserves someone who will never hurt him. Unlike me.” He bit his lower lip due to the anger that surfaced up all of a sudden.

“What you did was unforgivable,” Hiyoshi continued, making him even more uncomfortable than before. “But that doesn’t mean I can easily pardon what Ootori did to you either.” His voice was toneless, but a tinge of disappointment was audible. “Shishido-senpai, do you really think everything can go back to normal?”

The man with amethyst eyes blinked, then he chuckled faintly. “What’s this, Hiyoshi? Aren’t you supposed to encourage me to settle everything?” When the brunette opposite of him bit his lower lip and looked away, he leaned back on the wooden chair. “As Jirou and Gakuto said, we have nothing else to lose.”

“Shishido-senpai…” Hiyoshi mumbled, his expression stiffened. “Are you going to do it today?”

“Unbelievable, right?” He smiled. “To think that I’m finally going to face what I’ve started… it’s hands down nerve-wrecking… But hey, none of us wants to see him suffering any longer.” Shishido shrugged as he took a sip of his drink. “Besides, I think Atobe will hire an assassin to murder me if I drag this on any longer. I value my life too, y’know?”

The ochre haired male was silent for a moment before he said. “You have an odd sense of humour, Shishido-senpai.”

“’dun wanna hear ‘dat comin’ from y’” Sucking on the straw, Shishido gulped more of his frappe.

Hiyoshi cleared his throat with an embarrassed look on his face, signalling that he was about to revert the topic back to what he originally wanted to talk about. “I just wanted to make sure that you won’t run away again.” A thin smile then bloomed on his lips. “But it seems that I was worrying over nothing.”

“Thanks for that, though.” The brunette’s lips curved to return the sincere gesture, watching the male in front of him sipping on his hot chocolate.

“Have you told Ootori?”

“I did, and I’m sure he heard me.” Shishido muttered. “It’s just a matter whether or not he’s willing to step back to the place that holds his worst memory in Japan.”

Hiyoshi put the white cup back on the saucer with a soft clinking sound before landing his sight on his senior’s eyes. “I don’t want any of you to regret anything.” He said with a tone that someone would say emotionless. But Shishido knew better than that. Hiyoshi was legitimately worried about the two of them.

The brunette nodded with a firm smile decorating his lips. “I won’t run away anymore, Hiyoshi. You have my word.”

* * *

 

_“Five o’clock. I’ll be waiting for you.”_

Those words rang in Ootori’s ears repeatedly for the entire afternoon. Although he tried to ignore it due to the vagueness of its context, he found himself trying to interpret the meaning of the said sentences. And even though he wanted to take them seriously, Shishido had not specified any location. Besides, what could it be about?

The throbbing inside his head came back again after an hour of silence, and Ootori quickly clutched his forehead while leaning back on the sofa, trying to ease himself up. At that rate, he didn’t know whether it was because of his hangover or because he was thinking too hard over the two short sentences that Shishido had said in the morning.

The clock pointed exactly five in the evening and being an Ootori who is always punctual on appointments, he felt a little giddy just sitting around, knowing that someone would be waiting for him soon, although that person is Shishido. Of course, he couldn’t push away his curiousity… maybe a little peek wouldn’t hurt… If only he knew where to go.

Ootori started speculating what the brunette could possibly want to talk about. There was no doubt that ‘reconciliation’ topic crossed his mind and really, it was the most likely one that Shishido would want to talk to him about. If it was true, Ootori only had to hear what he had to say—not that it would make any difference. They’ve strayed from each other too much, and at that point, there really was no hope of them coming back together. Besides, Shishido seemed to have already accepted the treatment that he was lashing at him, as much as Ootori hated to admit. There really was no turning back for them.

The silver haired male grinded his teeth in frustration as he fisted the fabric of his pants. _No,_ he didn’t want to reconcile with the jerk who ruined his life. Just thinking about it filled his body with mixed feelings that he hated. Not to mention the cries from within him that still tried to convince him that he _needed_ Shishido. But wait… what if Shishido called him for something other than a peace treaty? What if… what if he wanted to tell him that he was going to leave…?

Ootori smashed the coffee table with his hands upon hearing such thought. Shishido _has_ to stay. Ootori wouldn’t have it any other way. Because, if he decides to leave, his effort let the brunette swallow what he had would be in dust… the struggle that he went through to finalise his resolve would be a waste of time… Shishido _deserves_ to be hurt, and it doesn’t matter whether he submit to him or not, he _has_ to reap what he sow.

The tall figure straightened his back and rushed for the door, he didn’t know where he was going but he _knew_ that he had to go and meet Shishido to stop him from leaving. Not even once did he even consider that the reason for his possessiveness developed from his warped definition of love, in the form of intolerable abuse with revenge as an excuse. His mind became so twisted from all the attempts he took to forget about his love that he was blinded with fury.


	19. Eternity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally it's over! Thank you for the readers who supported me with kudos and kind reviews! *^* the next chapter will be the omake where I'll be writing about fluff and their life after this mess... Look forward to it!  
> [Writing as I listen to this uvu](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f_9J86_4Lxo)

It was almost five thirty and he was still alone.

Shishido’s eyes were fixed on the falling leaves and the barren autumn trees, contrary to what it had been like during Spring seven years ago when everything crashed to the ground. The smell of cherry blossom lingered in the air back then, and the image in his head of the brightness of that day made him forget, for a split second, that he was going to face one of the biggest moments in his life. Depending on how smoothly he could deliver what he needed to say, it could be a matter of everything slowly reverting back to the healthy partnership and relationship he and Ootori Choutarou had before seven years ago, or a complete separation. He dreaded the latter. Frankly speaking, he didn’t want to lose Ootori—he had always been the one who could control his temper and the person he knew he could go to without feeling judged in the slightest.

But again, it wasn’t like there was a hundred percent chance that Ootori would show up. After all, he had only mentioned the time in which he would arrive in Hyotei senior high. Until then, he decided that he would just wait, wait and wait. His gut feeling convinced him that the man he was waiting for would come, and he wanted to trust that instinct.

Everyone around him had opened his eyes and made him admit that he loved Ootori. Despite all those times he had failed to dispose the memories of them, never once had he ever thought that the reason behind it was his romantic affection. He thought he was merely guilty for destroying someone who played the most important role in his high school tennis.

Initially, he wasn’t sure how to face Ootori who seemed to have changed drastically—because of what he did seven years ago. Shishido didn’t want to admit that it was his fault that everything got to that point, and he knew that even if he told Jirou or Gakuto about it, they were just going to blame him. So he hid it in hope of handling it himself. But it was the wrong decision to make. If only he told them sooner… if only he didn’t try to run away from his mistakes, maybe everything wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe Ootori wouldn’t stoop even further down.

Shishido knew he made the right decision by remaining there as soon as he could hear faint footsteps behind him, stopping at a distance away from him. Without turning around, he smiled.

"This is where everything ended, isn't it?" Shishido pushed his hands in the pockets of his shorts. "Supposedly, this place is reserved for good memories too..." Heart beating fast, he somehow managed to phrase a coherent speech.

"Why did you invite me to come here?" The male muttered, trying to regain his breathing, somehow not surprised to find Shishido standing in the location that his feet took him to. The brunette probably decided that he would be able to find his way there regardless of information, and he bet on that chance.

"I didn't.” The smaller figure shrugged. “All I told you was the time. You weren’t obliged to come, yet here you are. You came here by your own will."

Ootori could visualise the smile on Shishido’s lips, despite the fact that he couldn’t see his expression due to his back faced towards him. But it scared him because he _knew_ that he was smiling. The pitch of his voice always lifts up a little bit whenever he was at least a little joyful. It was really one of the little habits that he had learned about his former partner, having been awfully close with him during junior and high school life. And he could still pick it out although they spent seven years apart with no connections whatsoever. It _terrified_ him.

"Ootori, do you hate me for leaving you?" He raised his shoulders, hands clenched inside his pocket.

Wind blew between them, and the taller male clicked his tongue, expression stiffened. "Anyone would."

"I guess...” Shishido tilted his face upwards, chuckling softly, laughing at himself for even asking such question. "I'm so lame, ain’t I?" He continued, withdrawing his hand to rub the back of his neck.

Shishido was nervous, Ootori could tell. Again, it was one of the subtle gestures that he would do whenever he feels uncomfortable. First, hands in pocket, and second, his neck. Even after all those years, the man in front of him has yet to change his body language, and Ootori wasn’t sure how to feel about that. But all he could feel was anger—anger towards himself for still being able to comprehend those habits.

"Cut the small talk and get to the point already. Seeing you make me sick." The silver haired male commented harshly due to the boiling fury inside him.

Obviously taken aback, Shishido’s shoulders tensed and his bodily movements ceased. Knowing that it was futile to muck around any longer, he passively dropped his hands to his side and looked at the ground. His feet moved back and forth, kicking gravels underneath him as he tried to remain calm. “Have you... ever thought of starting over?"

Ootori raised one of his eyebrows, and although he was sure that he could hear him right the first time, he decided to question. "Pardon?"

"I know I don't have the right to say this but..." The brunette was fidgeting continuously in attempt to prevent his voice from breaking due to his nerve. "I want to be a part of your life again." He added, as silently as he possibly could.

Shishido didn’t know what the consequences of saying that was—he had thought it was a considerably harmless gamble that would most likely be rejected, or by miracle, accepted. It went without saying that he would much prefer the latter option compared to the first one, because it would provide him with a degree of relief. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t requested that much from Ootori… he asked a couple of times during the two weeks they spent together, sort of, but not once he ever received a positive response.

He could hear footsteps from behind him, slow-moving but firm in their trail. He didn’t know what he was expecting when the hand of the man he loves grabbed him on the shoulder and turned him around so hastily, nor was he graced by any moment of comprehension as a hard fist came into contact with the left side of his jaw so fiercely he was thrown off balance, down to the asphalt.

"Damn fucking true you don't have the right to say that." Ootori’s bitter voice echoed in his ears. Wrath was clearly visible in those lifeless eyes of his as he stood tall, towering the male in front of him.

All of a sudden, Shishido felt small—so insignificant for Ootori that he almost surrendered right there. But he remembered the promise that he stated towards Hiyoshi, and he didn’t want to back out. Not when he decided to take his words. "What do I have to do... to be let inside again?" He muttered, trying his best to ignore the throbbing pain on his jaw. Both hands propping him up, Shishido got to his feet once more and stared into Ootori’s eyes. "Please tell me, Ootori.”

The taller figure dug his nails into the skin of his palm and he opened his lips, breathing becoming jagged as he moved forward and scream. "You bastard!" His fist made its way to Shishido’s cheek once again with sickening impact. Shishido wobbled backwards, but he braced himself and didn’t stumble. "Like hell I'd let you in my life again!" Seeing the brunette’s persistence provoked more anger within him; his punches turned more aggressive, but Shishido remained standing still, sight adjusted so he would once again stare into his eyes.

Those eyes… those eyes were saying that he wasn’t going to give up just yet. Ootori could see fire in them, just like how they would light up in the middle of a heated tennis match. Shishido could still see hope although Ootori was practically bashing him, and the silver-haired male couldn’t stand that look. Just a few days ago, those lights weren’t there… it was as if he had completely admit his defeat. Because of that, Ootori thought that it would be impossible to turn back. But they were there again—those amethyst eyes sparkled even when his face was a mess.

"The day you left me was the day I vow to never give you another chance ever again!" Ootori cried out, trying to not let his voice break even a little bit as he swung his right fist to meet the right cheek of his former partner. “So, don't think I'm going to accept you!" Bellowing even harder, the taller male put his whole strength into the last punch, and that proved to be enough to send Shishido back to the ground, blood trickled down from his nose and lips.

The brunette tried to smoothen the fall with his hands although his reflex wasn’t quick enough. He sprawled on the floor, hands on the sides of his head. Panting loudly due to the pain, Shishido sucked in his tears. Instead, he turned his head to face Ootori while attempting to get back up. Then he smiled.

"Then… keep punching me. Keep hitting me until you're satisfied."

Lips still apart, Ootori gasped before he gritted his teeth in fury. He approached Shishido with hands still clenched tightly, trembling both in frustration and wrath. “Why…” He croaked, unaware of the moisture that started to build up in his eyes. “Why?!” He screamed out loud, kicking the brunette on the guts, making him cough and screech in pain as he placed his hands helplessly on his stomach. “How can you accept my treatment?!"

Shishido noticed the way Ootori’s eyes quivered and sparkled due to the tears he was unconsciously trying to hold back. It relieved him to see such sight, because he was finally _crying._ The old Ootori Choutarou gave in. With breathing still audibly uneven, Shishido managed a weak smile, hands still clutching his pained stomach. "Because I know you're lying." He croaked, obviously taking Ootori by surprise. "You've never been a very good liar."

Hearing that coming from his former partner, he bit his lower lips and tears started to flow down his cheek. Oh, Ootori noticed it. He knew that he was displaying his crybaby attitude in front of the last person he wanted to show it to, but it was too late to stop. Seeing Shishido accepting his treatment while still being able to smile was downright _excruciating_ for him. "Shut the fuck up!" He raised his voice, trying to act strong although his façade started to crumble.

With all the might he had left in him, he swung his foot for probably the last time, towards Shishido’s hands-covered stomach, making him gag once more. Hating the lack of fire in him, he leaned in and grabbed him by the collar but unable to do anything further than that when he saw the result of his violence. Shishido was already bruised all over, blood dripping down to his chin.

The brunette took a deep breath and smiled thinly, shakily saying, "Did you achieve something by hurting me?" His eyes travelled to follow the trail of the tears falling from Ootori’s hazel eyes, down to his cheek and chin. "Your heart is strained, isn't it?"

Taking a deep breath, Ootori yanked him closer, making him flinch. "Shut up! What do you know about pain?"

Shishido knew that the man in front of him was giving it his all to toss away the remains of Ootori Choutarou—his hands quivered on his shirt, the pain visible in his eyes. "I achieved the same thing by hurting you—nothing." Shishido’s statement was answered with droplets of moisture on his cheeks, one after the other and he gave Ootori a soft sigh of relief. "I want you to stop suffering"

“What are you talking about?” The silver haired male trembled, not even trying to cover the fact that he was weeping any longer. “You were the one who made me miserable."

Shishido’s hands twitched. It was impossible for him to deny that he created the monster in front of him, but he desperately wanted to atone for what he did, no matter the cost. "Kind, forgiving and compassionate—those aspects had always been your strongest points."

Even through those flooded eyes, seven years’ worth of infuriation was reflected, and while shaking his head lightly, he opened his mouth. "They brought me nothing but heartache." The tone was bitter, droplets of tears keep dripping down from his long eyelashes that Shishido had always loved, down to his face.

Seeing such remorseful-sounding voice, Shishido’s heart twisted. It was true that his positive attitudes made Shishido thought that lying to him would be just fine—Ootori would forgive him no matter what, after all. He was in the wrong, he understood that. But he didn’t know that admitting it in front of a completely shaken Ootori would be so painful. However, he _needed_ to be strong for Ootori.

"Is what you’re doing now healing you in any way?" The brunette quietly asked. And immediately, hazel eyes snapped open in response, blinking back drops of moistures from his eyes.

Ootori bit his lower lips, because he couldn’t get an answer for the question that was fired towards him. What did he achieve by wounding Shishido? Did it ease him up? Was it healing him in any way? In the back of his head, Ootori knew that whatever it was that he had been doing was not the right thing to do. Yet he ignored that voice. He thought that only by revenge he would truly feel at peace once more.

But he was damn wrong; so fucking wrong. Everything that he did only worsened the situation—in attempt to rebuild his sanity, he was destroying himself even more. Shishido included. Atobe was right, so was Hiyoshi. He had absolutely no right of harming Shishido.

The brunette couldn’t stand seeing the absolutely overwhelmed look in his former partner’s face. So instead of staying quiet any longer, he decided to continue. "Choutarou, won't you forgive me?" Said Shishido. Even after saying his first name, there was still no significant reaction. "...Please stop hurting yourself. I want Choutarou back. The Choutarou who cries over abandoned animals, the Choutarou who has the strength to smile even when he's suffering, the Choutarou who is strong enough to forgive everyone who wronged him."

Suddenly finding a jolt of electricity through his right hand, Shishido’s fingers twitched, and he lifted his quivering hand to reach Ootori’s face. His thumb brushed against his cheek, and the brunette could see the man in front of him twitched upon the gentle contact. Smiling while maintaining the same delicateness, he wiped the trail of tears away from his face.

"…The Choutarou that I love." The voice that escaped from his lips was sweet, firm and sincere. It was as if Shishido was trying to deliver the adoration that Ootori had deserved; the affection that he was supposed to receive seven years ago in that very place.

The taller figure trembled, fingers unable to clutch the man in front of him any longer and he loosened his grip, leaving him to support himself with his own arm. With Shishido’s hand on the corner of his eye, wiping the tears away, he blinked. "...Love?"

“Love.” Shishido’s smile bloomed for a few moments before it fades away. "I was scared because I started to develop feelings towards you despite the fact that I swore that the relationship was nothing more than a way to strengthen our doubles partnership.” Withdrawing his hand from Ootori, as if thinking that he doesn’t deserve to touch the man in front of him, he proceeds. “Because of my ego, I ran away from my feelings, selfishly only thinking of myself and ended up hurting someone who means the world to me."

Ootori’s eyes were wide open, lips trembling. "What... are you trying to say?"

"I love you, Choutarou" He whispered earnestly. There was absolutely no trace of doubt or lies in the statement that he just recited. "You know, whenever someone dumps me, they tend to say 'you always seem so distant... it's like you're looking at someone else', or something along those lines." Coughing in between his lines, he had to pause. "That someone is you, Choutarou. It hurts, it hurts to think about how badly I've ruined _us_. You were the first person I've ever been in a relationship with, and I thought the sensation that I got whenever we're together, whenever I’m holding your hands, whenever our lips touch, can easily develop no matter who my partner is." Shishido swallowed contritely, the metallic taste of blood on his tongue was strong. "Well, I'm wrong. I'm so fucking wrong. And when I realised it, you were already gone."

The silver-haired male tightened his grip on Shishido’s shirt once again, although it was much less aggressive than last time. "Then… then why didn't you try to contact me?"

Having anticipated the question, the brunette shook his head imperceptibly. "I was in denial. I still couldn't accept the fact that I truly loved you.” He managed to continue. “And I’m not strong like you. If I apologise... and you don't forgive me, I know I won't be able to live with it. I wouldn't be able to bear your rejection..."

Hearing such confession from his former partner, Ootori’s eyes dropped down from looking into Shishido, to nervously staring at his own hands. "Me...? Strong...?"

The shorter male chuckled quietly as he lied down on the asphalt, bringing Ootori down with him. "You are one of the strongest people I've ever met. It doesn't matter how discouraged you are, you can always find a way to smile and be kind.” With both of his hands extended upwards, he grabbed the silver-haired male by the cheeks as a gesture so that he would look at him. It was answered with Ootori’s hazel eyes gazing anxiously into his. “But I can't do that... I always end up hurting the people I love the most whenever emotion gets the better of me. Like how I hurt you." Ootori pursed his lips inwards, tears flooding both of his eyes once again. "I take it all back... everything that I said seven years ago..."

With voice so fragile, the taller male dared himself to speak. "Then... those three years... are real?"

"Yes. Yes, they are." Shishido smiled in relief when he realised that he had successfully reach the Ootori Choutarou that he had been looking for. The innocent eyes from years, years ago slowly surfaced back up as a sign that his inner fight is almost over. "If I could turn back time, I wouldn’t have let you go. I love you, Ootori Choutarou. Please forgive me."

“You’re cruel, Shishido-san…” The man broke in tears once more, this time he showed no restrain as he sobbed both in liberation and anguish. “You’re too cruel…” The voice that came out of his lips was melodious despite the hiccups.

"From now on I promise that I'll reach out to you when you feel like you’re breaking. I promise that you won’t be alone anymore. So please... give me a second chance." With all his might, Shishido leaned forward to take the weeping man in his arms reassuringly and apologetically.

"Shishido-san... Shishido-san... I’m sorry..." Ootori cried out loud, his arms made their way around the brunette’s back to draw him closer, holding him tighter than ever. He didn’t want to let Shishido go anymore. "I’m sorry… I’m sorry. I thought you… never regretted a single thing... So I tried to make you feel… guilty… by forcibly changing myself into someone… who I'm not. I pressured myself to treat you that way… so you would regret everything… that you've done... I'm sorry… I’m really sorry." Hiccups got the better of him as he forced the words out of his throat. The words that he should have said days, days ago.

"Seven years and there have not been a second when I stopped loving you" Ootori continued, tightening his grip on Shishido.

"Nor have I Choutarou. I love you." He whispered into his neck, kissing it softly and lovingly. “I swear I won’t make the same mistake again. From now on, I won’t have anyone other than you. You’re the only one who can complete me, Choutarou. I love you… I’m sorry…” Shishido sobbed.

“Uwaaah…!!!” A choked yell was audible in the background and both males turned their heads to the source of the noise. “Beautiful, Shishido! Ootori!” Oshitari wiped his eyes underneath the fake glasses with a handkerchief. “I know that it was going to be sad, but not this sad!”

“Yuushi, you promised to shut up!” Gakuto smacked him roughly on the stomach and the blue-haired individual fell down, unwilling to get back up as he emptied his tear duct.

“But it was really beautiful, Gakutooooo~!” Jirou turned his head to face the redhead, tears also flooding his eyes. “Who knows that everything can end like this?”

“Heh…” Atobe chuckled proudly. “I _know_ this will happen! I know both of them can work it out somehow…” He placed his finger on his chin while nodding, a signature smirk bloomed on his lips.

“Atobe-san, I’m sure you said that the odds of them getting back together is pretty thin. Please don’t spout some lies.” Hiyoshi mumbled behind him but failed to hide the relief in his tone.

“Well, it ends well, so don’t complain!” Taki smiled with his arms crossed.

“Hospital…” Kabaji murmured softly, pointing at the all beaten up Shishido, and all seven ex-regulars panicked right away before dialling the closest hospital.

“So noisy already…” Shishido cursed silently but his grim expression soon lightened up when he heard a familiar giggle close to him.

“They have always been this noisy, right? It won’t be right if they’re not…” Ootori smiled gently before opening his eyes to face his senior. Fifty shades of red immediately blossomed on his cheeks upon seeing Shishido’s gentle smile, and he looked away in an instant, guilt swirling inside of him due to the blood and bruises all over him, as a result of his anger. But a split second later, his eyes concernedly darted back to the brunette, whose expression was untroubled for once, eyes sparkling in joy and he knew that this time, they are together.

The one important chapter in his book that he thought had been ripped apart, was taped back together. While it is true that once destroyed, something can’t return to its original, unblemished state, Ootori wanted to believe that despite the imperfections in their relationship, they would be able to pick themselves up from thereon. And it may not _ever_ be fully restored—they will still argue and have differences in their opinions, but this time he is sure that they are for eternity.


	20. Epilogue

Ootori’s eyes nervously followed the long hand of the watch dangling idly off his wrist while trying not to be obvious about it. Although no sound was produced, he could almost hear the loud ticking of a normal clock. Finding himself unable to remain calm, he fidgeted on his seat, occasionally throwing an anxious glance at the man sitting in front of him who was currently inspecting the ten pages worth of paperwork calmly.

His shoulder tensed as soon as he heard the papers being hit against the table and he looked up to see his boss neatening the stack of thin articles while straightening his back. Ootori gulped nervously, then Atobe smirked, giving a light nod.

“Perfect.” He remarked with the absence of doubt.

The silver-haired male exhaled in relief upon hearing the confirmation from his boss. Although he worked with him for one year now, he still couldn’t get used to the nerve when he was supposed to hand in the drafts and paperwork. It was like sitting in front of your teacher who is marking your exam paper.

“You’re picking Shishido up?” Atobe questioned, pushing back the neat stack of papers towards Ootori. Of course he noticed the way he was fidgeting. Even for him, it was a bit unusual.

The taller male grabbed the item passed by Atobe and put it in his folder before placing it neatly inside his briefcase. “Yes. It’s getting really cold, after all. And Shishido-san always refuse to drive a car.”

“He probably likes getting pampered by you,” He smirked with his head nested on the palm of his hand. Nobody ever missed their chance to tease the two together, and Atobe wasn’t an exclusion. Seeing Ootori getting flustered and Shishido flailing is definitely one of his favourite past times.

“N-no! That’s not the case at all…” The taller figure blushed, clutching his briefcase in his arm. “He hasn’t renewed his license so…”

“Excuses, excuses,” Atobe rolled his eyes mockingly, and before the man in front of him could deny his statement, he waved his hand. “Go and pick him up.”

The red-faced Ootori Choutarou shyly muttered words of gratitude, then scrambling off Atobe’s grand office in a hurry and took the elevator nearby to the ground floor, smiling and waving at his co-workers. He withdrew a key from his pocket to unlock his car and drove away towards Shishido’s work place, not forgetting to send him a text reminding him that he would be coming soon.

The place where he works at wasn’t so far away from his office. Without the traffic jam, which is quite a rare thing to happen but somehow was happening, it would take only five minutes. So, without any drama, he arrived in front of the tennis club that Shishido works at and parked his car on the space next to it.

“Ryou’s boyfriend’s here,” Everyone groaned as soon as they saw a tall figure walking from the entrance, still cladded in black suit and equally dark tie and pants. He waved cheerfully towards Shishido who nervously lifted his hand up in response, obviously failing to ignore his friends.

“Shishido-san!” Ootori chirped, swiftly holding the shorter man in his arms tightly, and Shishido’s friends started whistling teasingly as they walked away from the lovebirds.

“Choutarou… can you maybe not do that next time?” The brunette complained when Ootori withdrew, this time grabbing his hand, walking side by side. “It’s kinda embarrassing…”

“Embarrassing?” He cocked his head to the side with his hazel eyes so round and lips parted slightly, also known as the ultimate puppy face that Shishido could never withstand.

“D-don’t mind me! Let’s just go!” The brunette grumbled as he opened the front door of Ootori’s raven Alfa Romeo, leaving his boyfriend with a huge question mark floating above his head.

Soon, the silver-haired male sat on the driver’s seat and turned the car key, making the engine roars. “Shishido-san,” He turned his head, smiling sweetly, only answered with a series of grunts and blushes by Shishido with his arms crossed and eyes looking away. Ootori only giggled lightly before leaning in to peck him on the cheek, making him jump.

“W-what?!” He slapped a hand on his targeted cheek, but when he realised what his boyfriend was trying to convey, Shishido then grinned, patting him on the shoulder. “You didn’t smoke again today, yeah?”

“It’s all thanks to you, Shishido-san!” The taller male chirped cheerfully as his foot pressed on the gas to get the machine going. It had been a year, but it was a year of constant fight for Ootori to try and break away from his cigarette and alcohol addiction. Although now he could go on for weeks without a nicotine stick, sometimes he found that the temptation was far too great to resist. So, each day he broke his non-smoking record, he would always try to show it off to Shishido, the man who gave him reason to continue fighting.

“You had court today, right?” The brunette asked, right hand travelled forward to click the glove compartment open. From inside, he retrieved a brand new packet of mint gum. “Went well?” He slipped a strip of gum in-between his lips and handing one to Ootori, who politely refused.

“Yes!” He beamed as a sign that it indeed went without any dramas. “It couldn’t be better, in fact. The defendant didn’t have such strong evidence in the first place. And, he was really in the wrong… so I’m glad I was able to knock some sense into him.”

Shishido’s fingers pinched the volume roller on the audio system and turned it clockwise to increase the sound of the radio. “Whenever I get involved with legal issues, you’ll back my ass up, right?” Both of them immediately exchanged laughter. “But seriously, though. Why don’t you just study music again? Wouldn’t it be better to be a tutor?”

“I dunno…” Ootori scratched his cheek, one hand still on the steering wheel and foot pressing the brake when they approached the red light. “I took a liking to it, somehow… And my dad seems to be supportive of my career. Whenever I’m in trouble, he’s always willing to help.”

“Well, your dad’s a lawyer, after all.” Shishido leaned back while fiddling with the seatbelt. “How’s your family?” Out of the blue, he asked. They decided to break the news to their families a few months ago about their decision to date once more. Shishido’s side of family took the matter lighter than Ootori’s since he wasn’t the eldest son hence he didn’t have the responsibility to carry the family’s name. Of course, it took quite a huge deal of convincing before they were able to nod it off as something serious. However, it was such a shock for Ootori’s family and until that day, they still heard no word of confirmation regarding their relationship.

“I don’t know, to be honest… Dad and mom seem to be unable to deal with the fact just yet. But I’m glad that nothing worse happened…” The taller figure sighed in defeat, eyes still focused on the road forward as they entered the car park.

“Ahh, dammit, that was my favourite song!” Shishido yelled out of context when the signal of the radio was cut off due to the car being in the parking area. Ootori only giggled until the car came to a complete stop and they stepped out, locking it.

“Shishido-san, I heard _The Phantom Menace_ is going to be shown today.” The silver-haired male said while undoing his tie.

Ootori undoing his tie is such a sensual sight for Shishido. Okay, he _is_ hot in those damn blazer, but he wished that he wouldn’t do such a teasing act so obliviously. “No way!” He raised his voice as soon as it clicked in. “No way, no way! We _have_ to see it! What time will it be on?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s nine o’clock. So we have time to prepare dinner and bathe.” Ootori smiled after seeing the giddy Shishido Ryou next to him, starry-eyed and just hands down excited. “How many times have you watched it, Shishido-san? Aren’t you tired already?”

“Are you kidding me?! Tired of _Star Wars_?! Never!” He swung his entire weight towards Ootori, making the other male almost losing his balance in front of their apartment loft.

“…Of course.” Giggling, Ootori took off his shoes and placed them neatly on the rack while Shishido jumped and kicked his sneakers against the door, before running into the kitchen and looked inside the fridge. The taller male was left sighing, bending down to pick up the mess that his boyfriend made.

“Choutarou, are you alright with mapo tofu and braised pork fillet?” Shishido asked, eyes still focused on the content of the refrigerator.

“Ah, sure.” He said, walking into his old room which had been redesigned to be a library and work area, then he placed his briefcase on the desk. “Anything you cook tastes delicious anyway.”

“Yep!” Shishido hummed, not even trying to deny the compliment. He then took out the ingredients necessary before putting an apron on.

“I’ll prepare the bath,” Said Ootori, when he saw Shishido already chopping the shallots. He only nodded as a confirmation. “I’ll help you when I’m done.”

It had been difficult for Ootori to come into terms with what he had done to Shishido over a year ago; all the abuse and assault that he lashed out. For the first six months or so after their decision to start over again, they had to sleep in different rooms, because just seeing Shishido filled Ootori with massive amount of guilt. Although it took a while, the brunette convinced Ootori that turning a blank page meant _turning a damn blank page._ Of course, it wasn’t that simple. But all that mattered was that they were together again. Shishido also had to be an emotional support to prevent the silver-haired male from picking his unhealthy obsession back up. The first month was the roughest, because Ootori would scream whenever he tried to take his cigarettes away, and he would always hide some in his pocket. But thanks to the other former Hyotei regulars, he was able to somehow tone his addiction down.

Ootori prepared the bath hotter than the usual temperature, because they needed to do the prep for dinner first, so it would take some time before they actually jump in the tub. After he finished the task, he returned to the kitchen quietly to see Shishido turning the tofu in the wok while whistling _Star Wars_ theme. He found himself unable to resist the temptation and he slipped his arms around the man’s waist.

“Wha—?!” He yelped, and only stopped when his cheek came into contact with soft silvery curls of Ootori. “Hey, hey. Don’t scare me like that.”

“But you’re always so focused, and it’s really cool…” The taller male mewled into his ear, sending shiver down Shishido’s spine. “Ah, sorry. What do you need help with?” He giggled, letting go of his boyfriend.

“T-the… pork.” The brunette let out a huge sigh of relief. “Can you cut the fillet around two centimetres thick?” He continued, one hand travelled to pre-heat the oven.

One year, and there had been no sexual advances from Ootori. To be perfectly honest, Shishido was getting quite impatient at the rate things are going. Of course, he was happy to have the Ootori Choutarou back again, and being domestic with him, but sometimes he found his adrenalin running—mostly through his lower half whenever he leans down and whispers in his ear, oblivious to what stimulation it was doing to someone who has not been touched by others in a year.

Sometimes, he just wanted to pin the man and rip him off his clothes, but he wanted to make sure that the time would be right for him. After what happened, it was only natural that it would take quite a bit of time for him to soothe.

“Alright!” Shishido raised his voice, smashing the oven door closed. Ootori was next to him, lifting up the wok of mapo tofu and putting them aside after covering it with a lid to keep the warmth inside. Both men then quickly walked into the bathroom and stripped themselves off their clothes before entering the tub.

It was one of the things that they would always do during Friday nights, because Shishido starts work later and would finish at the same time as Ootori, so they have time to cook and relax together with neither party being overly fatigued. Frankly, Shishido enjoys bathing with Ootori, even minus the sexual gestures. Because his boyfriend would always massage his head gently while applying shampoo and conditioner, as well as rubbing his back. As a result, he could just scroll through his mobile and play games.

“Shishido-san… how many times do I have to tell you to put your mobile away?” The taller male sulked, fingers still pressed on Shishido’s head. “One of these days, you’re going to drop it.”

“I’m not gonna drop it.” The pampered party muttered around five seconds late, because his mind was busy on the screen.

“If you say so,” Ootori heaved a heavy sigh before he poured a handful of body wash and rubbed it all over Shishido’s back. And before anything further could happen, he could hear a slipping noise and the sound of an object falling into the water.

“MY PHONE!!!” The brunette let out the loudest scream as he scrambled to get off the bath, afraid of getting electrocuted alive. Water splashed along with his motion and spilled on the bathroom tile. Hearing such loud noise and seeing Shishido leaving the tub, he jumped to his feet and rushed to his side, wondering what just happened.

“I told you…” The taller male just shrugged.

“It’s your fault!” Shishido howled, grabbing Ootori by the shoulders and shaking him aggressively. “You jinxed it!”

“It’s about time you get a new phone anyway, Shishido-san!” He responded to his senior’s distress, and leaned in to search for the device in the foam-filled water. When Ootori found it, he placed it on the sink and he could see Shishido’s absolutely broken expression, and he felt bad immediately.

“I just got a super rare character…” He fell to his knees, voice shaking.

“T-there… there…” Ootori tapped his boyfriend on the shoulder softly.

“Choutarou…” Shishido mumbled in a tone that was anything but fine, much to Ootori’s concern. He started wondering if it really was his fault that Shishido’s phone broke. “YOU GOTTA BUY ME A NEW PHONE!” The brunette screamed on top his lungs, spitting all over his face.

“S-Shishido-san! Please don’t be too loud, we’re going to inconvenient the neighbours!” Raising his hands as if it would help him to defend himself, he spoke.

“Do you think I care about the neighbours?! It’s all your fault!” After throwing a tantrum like a six years old, he grinned. “Tickle torture!”

“No… No, Shishido-san! Please!” Ootori pleaded, slowly backing away from the mischievous-looking Shishido. But it proved to be of no use, as he dove into him right away and fingers moving all over his waist.

Laughter spilled from the bathroom, into the living room, filling the entire apartment. Shishido knew that it was due to his own mistake that such predicament occurred, but he wanted to bully Ootori for it. He loved seeing his boyfriend getting flustered over it. Sure, he’d pout afterwards, but he can deal with that later.

“Oh, crap! I almost overcooked the pork!” Shishido cursed when he got the tray out of the appliance. Waiting for it to rest, he started to move the mapo tofu into a large bowl and putting the rice cooker on the table, while Ootori placed plates and cutleries on the desk before they eat.

“Shishido-san, it’s kind of cold… why don’t you put a top on?” He said reluctantly, shade of red flitted across his cheeks upon seeing his partner’s nude upper half with only towel clinging around his neck.

“Huh, I thought you’d like seeing me topless,” The brunette blurted out casually as he used a large spatula to help to move the pork fillet into a flat plate.

“S-Shishido-san…!” Ootori’s face reddened.

“More importantly, why don’t you drop the honorific? Or better yet, use my first name?” He protested, walking to the sofa to grab a t-shirt that he forgot to bring into the bathroom and put it on. “I mean, it’s alright, you know? Even _I_ call you by your first name again.”

“Uh… Uhm…” Ootori scratched his cheek in embarrassment while walking to the desk and gently placing the plates of food. “I don’t know… it’s hard… It took me a few years to even call you without honorific…”

Shishido returned to the dining room and sat on the chair, opening the rice cooker and putting rice inside the bowl, handing it towards Ootori who smiled and thanked him. “Say it. Say ‘Ryou’.” He grinned.

“Eeeh?!” The taller male dragged his word of complaint as he grab a spoonful of the steaming mapo tofu. “Fine…” He took a deep breath. “R… R… R… Ryou…” Said Ootori with an absolutely flushed cheeks, his hands fidgeting under the table.

As if struck by a Cupid’s arrow through the heart, Shishido’s expression stiffened, trying to calm himself down. Starry-eyed, blushing and fidgety Ootori was simply too much for him. “I change my mind. Don’t call me that.” He said flatly, shoving food into his mouth.

“Shishido-san!” The silver-haired male protested, but decided that it was no use to argue with his boyfriend, so he decided to eat while everything was still hot.

After eating, Shishido decided that it was best to leave the dishes until tomorrow, but Ootori insisted that the grease would stick and become smelly if it remained unwashed by then. And with the broken dishwasher and the management still doing nothing about it, they had no other choice but wash their plates and used kitchen utensils manually.

“Turn the lights off, Choutarou!” Shishido jumped on the sofa, grabbing one of the cushions and hugging it between his arms before turning the television on. Ootori only nodded faintly as he flicked the switch down to dim the light. He then sat on the other end of the large sofa, putting a bag of popcorn between them. “We only have one blanket!” The brunette pouted, shoving the snack pack to Ootori’s lap then he scooted right next to him so his ear could touch his shoulder.

“Shishido-san, you’re kind of clingy today,” Ootori smiled as he draped the black fabric around Shishido, one hand remained on his shoulder. “I think it’s cute.” Upon hearing it, Shishido jumped on his seat to headbutt Ootori’s jaw, making him yelp in pain. “Okay, okay! I won’t say it again…”

“Ssh! It’s starting!” The brunette hushed him while sinking deeper into the blanket, and Ootori’s warm embrace.

The other male smiled upon feeling the comfortable sensation of having his loved one snuggling on him. He leaned his cheek on his head and took a deep breath to smell the fresh fragrance of shampoo and soap lingering on him. When a kiss was landed in the middle of the messy brown hair, Ootori could almost hear a soft mewl of want escaped from his boyfriend’s lips as he snuggled even closer.

“You remind me of a cat,” He giggled in adoration, other hand moved to grip his other shoulder. Another headbutt to the jaw. Ouch.

“But it’s rare that we have time together,” The smaller male murmured. Due to the clash in their working schedule, and the fact that sometimes he had to give private tennis lesson even during the weekend, they couldn’t find the time relax together. Friday night was probably the only convenient time for both of them.

“It’s true…” The silver haired male sulked, slightly loosening his grip on Shishido’s shoulder, eyes focused on the commercial break.

“Hey, Choutarou.” He brought his knees in and readjusted his position so that his entire weight was focused on them. Pressing his hands on Ootori’s thigh, he leaned forward to look into his eyes. “Let’s have sex.”

Shifting his eyes to anywhere but his boyfriend, he responded. “S-Shishido-san… that’s—“

“Come on, it’s been a year.” The brunette insisted, rocking his weight back and forth. “When are you gonna forgive yourself? You know that I’m not holding anything against you.”

Ootori tugged on his white shirt nervously. “I can’t… I’m going to h… hurt you again.”

“Hurting me?” Shishido climbed on his thigh and sat there, facing the taller male; practically forcing him to pay attention to him. “I never said anything about me being on the bottom.”

“E…Eh?! Shishido-san, you’re going to… to…?” Ootori stammered in surprise, trying to calm himself down but failing without style. “You’re going to… top me…?”

The brunette grabbed Ootori’s right hand swiftly and firmly before yanking it forward abruptly, making the other male let out a noise of surprise. Shishido stared at him absolutely-red faced as he moved his boyfriend’s hand over his crotch. Leaning into the curve of his neck, he whispered. “Don’t you underestimate me.” Tongue ran over a small spot of Ootori’s skin, while a hand still rubbing against his half-hard cock. “You’re too cute for your own good, y’know?” Shishido said, nipping on Ootori’s Adam’s apple, making him whimper. “You have to take responsibility.”

“S-Shishido-san…” Ootori heaved a sigh in pleasure, and unconsciously, his fingers traced the shape of his partner’s balls through the soft fabric of his pants. “I… really can’t…” His voice was muffled.

“You can’t?” Shishido chuckled breathily against his skin before nibbling on his collarbone. “But look at your fingers. They’re gladly playing with my cock.” The brunette gripped loosened his grip on Ootori’s hand, but it still kept moving, shakily bringing him to life. “I bet you want it, right, Choutarou?” More moans; this time lewder than before, lewder than Shishido could ever imagine. “You want me inside you right, Choutarou?”

“T-that’s not fair…” Ootori tilted his head up in desire, his left hand quivering, desperately wanting to join the right one to please the man in front of him. “…So mean…” Squeaking helplessly, Ootori allowed Shishido’s hand to slip underneath his clothes, around his back to trace feathery soft line along his spine, sending jolt of electricity all over him. “Shishido-san…”

“You’re the one to talk,” The brunette whispered in his ears, lifting one of his legs up and placed it in the middle of Ootori’s thigh. It grinded against his half-alive manhood gently and alluringly. “Goin’ ‘round me and whispering into my ear like it’s not gonna turn me on,” He muttered before brushing his lips on his boyfriend’s collarbone, roughness moving up and down. Then he pressed forward to kiss it, and nibble on it once more. “How’re you expecting me to live without fuckin’ you senseless?”

Ootori could vividly hear desperation in Shishido’s husky voice, along with an oddly irresistible mix of impatience and libido. Of course, he’d be lying if he said he said that he never wanted to once more feel Shishido’s bare skin against his hands. But he thought that it was best to not think about such filthy thing, especially after what they had gone through; Shishido might not be ready for it yet. And… to be perfectly honest, Ootori wasn’t sure if he deserved the chance to once again blemish what he had; Shishido had been much too forgiving for his own comfort.

Two hands were slapped on his cheeks, making him jump a little.

“Why’re you crying?!” Shishido raised his voice.

Ootori who didn’t realise that tears flooded his eyes, could only blink to get rid of his blurred vision and stutter. “I-I-I’m sorry!”

The brunette then pressed his hands against his boyfriend’s cheeks to bring his face closer, nose almost touching. He sighed. “Do you really not want to do it that much?” His eyes mellowed out, a pang of guilt was visible. “I _want_ it, Choutarou.” He continued, then looked away. “But if you don’t feel the same way, I won’t force you.”

“No!” The silver haired male exclaimed all of a sudden before he jabbed his arms upwards to grip Shishido by the arms firmly. “It’s not that I don’t want it…” He twiddled his thumbs anxiously, lowering his voice. “I’m… truly scared.”

“Scared?” Shishido rubbed the back of his neck in confusion, head tilted down to Ootori’s stomach and eyeballs shifting up to eye the man. The brunette tried to decipher the nervous expression in his boyfriend’s eyes. However, he still got no clue what he was so terrified of.

The taller male bit his lower lips before extending his arms forward to take the man in front of him into his chest, fingers running through his damp hair. Despite the surprise, Shishido did nothing to stop him—all he did was sigh in defeat as he pressed his cheek against Ootori, and both hands placed on his shoulder. He allowed him to stay silent and tried to collect courage to say whatever was on his mind.

“Promise you won’t laugh?” Ootori mumbled against his neck.

Shishido moved his hand to gently rub his curly hair. “Cross my heart.” He vowed.

The silver haired male took a deep breath. “I’m scared that I will find remainders of scars on your body.” Fessed Ootori. To most people, that might seem a little eccentric, but Shishido knew full well that he was close to being traumatised by the realisation of what he did back then, due to his wrath. It was natural that he would be nervous to find out what was underneath, once he looked closely. Because even after all those times they spent together again, Ootori had never once glanced at his body for more than a few seconds, if any.

“Choutarou, we promised to start over.” Shishido whispered, voice gentle and delicate, not wanting to get Ootori worked up. His fingers traced light circle on the back of his neck. “I’ve left scars in you that wouldn’t heal too. Sometimes my heart stings when I look at you, and at how kind you’re treating me. You’re acting like nothing has ever happened between us, and honestly…” He sighed. “It makes me feel bad.”

“I’m sorry,” Ootori weakly replied, not aware of the tears that dropped to Shishido’s shoulder. “I’m just trying to atone for what I did.”

“I know.” The brunette smiled thinly before cupping Ootori’s cheeks and pushed him gently to look into his eyes. Ootori pursed his lips as he snuffled, pupils shaking. “Thanks.” Shishido smiled. Then, he leaned closer to peck his boyfriend on his lips lovingly.

When the shorter male withdrew, Ootori quickly jabbed his head forward to catch the man in another warm kiss. Upon receiving the romantic gesture, Shishido tipped his head to the side in attempt of finding a more comfortable angle. He then pressed forward until the back of Ootori’s head was buried on the sofa. The taller male surprised the other when he slipped his tongue in the middle of his lip and into his mouth. Shishido gladly welcomed that gesture, his tongue running over and around Ootori’s as lewd moans filled the air, overshadowing the volume of the television.

None of them said anything as their lips melted in the process of battling for dominance. The passionate and hungry noise of the osculation echoed in the living room, getting louder each passing second. Neither male gave in—even though they were out of breath, the kiss seemed to be getting fiercer. Their mouths opened wider to gasp in some air to keep them going. Shishido’s hands were all over Ootori’s back, clutching and tugging on his night wear, while Ootori’s focused on Shishido’s cheeks, dragging him closer if it was still possible.

The brunette then grabbed his shoulders and pushed him to the side. When he lost his balance, Shishido pressed him to the length of the sofa, lying him down before breaking the kiss for a split second. He then climbed on top of Ootori and leaned in once more to capture those moist lips of his. He desperately wanted to grind himself against Ootori, but he couldn’t. Curse his height.

The silver haired male noticed the desperate movement of his boyfriend, and he smiled in the midst of the kiss before dragging himself backwards and placing his head on the hand rest of the sofa. Hands travelled to Shishido’s waist, he moved them up and down, completely messing with his clothes.

“Fucking hell, Choutarou,” Shishido gasped as soon as they broke the kiss, unable to say anything more comprehensible. Both of them panted loudly, eyes staring into each other in lust.

Ootori brought his foot closer and bent his knees, thigh finding its way to Shishido’s crotch. With simple up and down movement, he rubbed it against the hardness developing in his pants.

“Hn!” The brunette yelped, before melting into a moaning mess. He could feel his head spinning, and he fell onto Ootori’s chest, panting loudly in the curve between his neck and shoulder. Shishido lifted his lower half to follow the rhythm of Ootori’s advances. He could immediately feel the wetness inside his underwear. “Choutarou… Choutarou…” He cried out in desperation. With trembling fingers, Shishido lifted Ootori’s T-shirt up to reveal his well-toned body. Still groaning in pleasure upon having Ootori rubbing his manhood, he nipped on his collarbone gently before covering a part of it with his mouth and licked it in his warmth.

“Nn…” The silver haired male bit his lower lips to prevent any excessive moans, but he failed when Shishido pushed two fingers into his mouth, encouraging him to scream out his name. Ootori licked the joint between the middle and index fingers, completely moistening them with his saliva.

“Choutarou...” Shishido whimpered as he tried to pull himself up. “’m gonna come if you keep it up…” He groaned, withdrawing his fingers only to be followed with a moan of loss from the other male.

When the brunette used both of his hands to prop himself up, he could see a ravaged Ootori. Hair so messed up, clothes hung above his chest to reveal his rosy nipples, lips red and tears falling from his eyes. His hands were placed next to his head as he panted loudly, mouth agape.

The sight shot an electric current to his pants, and he could feel his dick jolted.

“Fuck it all.” Shishido muttered before diving back in to capture Ootori’s lips in another round of passionate kiss. As their tongues melted together once more, he could hear the loud whimpers sang by the man underneath him, and he decided that he couldn’t wait any longer; he had waited for 387 days and now, he couldn’t wait for one more minute.

The brunette’s right hand slipped past his boyfriend’s pants and brief before proceeding to fondle the hardness inbetween his legs. Just a few seconds later, he could feel wetness spilling all over his hand, and he looked up to see the look of absolute ecstasy in Ootori’s eyes.

“You came already?” He muttered breathily, leaning in to nip on his jaw.

“Sorry…” The taller male whimpered. “You have no idea, Ryou…” The way he had sung his first name was the single most alluring thing that he had ever heard coming from anyone. “I wanted this… I’ve always wanted this… To feel you all over me…”

“Granted,” He cut sharply before coming to a sitting position on his crotch, and turned around then pushed his lower half further up. After he successfully slid down Ootori’s excess clothing, he engulfed him whole in his mouth, bringing the member back to life.

“Ryou!” Ootori gasped in pleasure, unable to comprehend anything else but that one sole sensation focused on his manhood. Shishido lifted his lower half up to the air, as if inviting Ootori to grasp him in his mouth as well. The other male shakily complied with the request as his hand made his way to yank down Shishido’s pants and boxer in one go. The brunette then lowered his crotch to allow his boyfriend to desperately lick the tip, and swallowing his whole length.

Their mouths were occupied; none could phrase a coherent sentence. But it wasn’t as if they needed to audibly say something. That moment was enough to express their hunger for each other’s touch. A year worth of no sexual advances was poured into one period, making their minds spin in ecstasy.

“I can’t take it anymore,” Ootori whimpered in the middle of the heat, voice full of irresistible half-begging tone that turned Shishido on even more than before, if it was even possible. “Ryou, please. Ryou.” Begged the taller male, grasping on Shishido’s clothes in frustration.

The brunette only managed a grumble before he re-adjusted himself so that his cock would meet his boyfriend’s, and they grinded together in passion, moans filled the air once more.

“Lube. Fuck. I need it _now_ ,” Shishido growled as if it would make the object he was looking for any closer. He was in such a daze that he couldn’t remember where he had placed the bottle, and nor could Ootori. Did they even _have_ such thing anymore? Why can’t one just magically appear?

“Ryou, quick… Ryou…” Ootori pleaded with his eyes sparkling with tears. His fingers clutching desperately onto his clothes, as if holding on for dear life.

“’m not gonna put it raw,” Shishido bit his lower lips, lips enclosing Ootori’s shortly after, his hand moving along the floor to find any alternative. _That’s it. Ootori’s hand lotion._ “Thank the gods you’re playing instruments again.” He muttered impatiently as he pressed on the pump and poured a generous amount on his palm before rubbing it on his stone hard dick and Ootori’s entrance.

“I need you _now_ ,” The taller male underneath him gasped as he felt a finger entering him. “Ryou, please, please, please… Unh!” He let out an uncontrolled yelp when Shishido found his prostate and attacked it mercilessly until his whole body jerked up and down, head thrashing from left to right and moans were screamed. “Ryou! Ryou!” Ootori cried out in pleasure, feeling himself close to coming again. “Ryou, please, I need you now, please, please!”

“Be more specific, Chou,” Shishido smirked, taking control of the situation as he felt his shoulders being gripped tighter than ever. “What part of me do you need?”

The silver haired male choked back his words and threw away any shame he had left. “D-dick… please, please, I want your dick inside me, Ryou.” He closed his eyes and let tears to stream out of his eyelids, making the sofa wet.

Feeling close to the point of release, Shishido captured his boyfriend’s lips once more in a hungry, sloppy kiss before ramming his entire length into his stretched entrance, making him cry in pleasure. The echo of his name filled the entire room as their bodies melt into one. The brunette grabbed Ootori’s legs and pushed them up to thrust deeper into him, drawing more and more of those lewd moans.

The sensation of his cock being clenched by Ootori was like no other. Of course, he had sex with some of his previous girlfriends, and they were superb, but nothing could compare to that moment. Nothing could come close to the warmth that surge throughout his entire being as his member withdrew just to slam back in. He could visibly see the tears that ran down from Ootori’s eyes, and how his tongue would stick out a little further when he screamed out his name.

The sofa moved from its original place to god knows where—they were far too busy occupying themselves that they failed to notice what was around them any longer. Shishido moved his hips faster and faster, hitting deeper and deeper, and each time, Ootori’s voice became louder and more incoherent.

When he spilled his seed all over, his muscle ring tightened around Shishido’s hard cock, bringing him to the point of release immediately. Ootori could feel warmth spilling inside him, and his heart was absolutely aflutter.

The brunette lied down on top of him, both panting loudly due to the exhaustion. His vision was blurred as his eyes landed on the television screen. And despite having watched it a thousand time, he asked himself. What part of _The Phantom Menace_ was that?

“I can’t believe…” Ootori started, his voice was still weak but chuckle was audible. “…you actually topped me…”

“Love you too,” With his clothes soaked with sweat, he grinned.

The silver haired male landed a feathery soft kiss on the brunette’s forehead as he rounded his arms around his waist and nuzzled him. “Thanks, Shishido-san.” He muttered in his hair. Really, Ootori was grateful that he decided to not take everything off—it might be the pace of their sex, but he was certain that it was by Shishido’s consideration as well.

“Maybe one day you’ll agree to marvel at my stunning body,” The shorter male grinned with his cheek placed on his boyfriend’s chest, eyes focusing on the television once more. “I need another shower.” He silently whispered.

“Mmmh…” Ootori agreed, eyelids slowly closing. The smell of grape shampoo lingered in the air, as if lulling him to sleep. His hand rubbed underneath the sofa to find a lever that he could pull to straighten the back of the sofa. Found it. “To the side, Shishido-san.” With his hands, he lowered Shishido slowly to his side and put a cushion underneath his head.

The brunette pressed his cheek on Ootori’s spread arm underneath him and pulled the dark coloured blanket up to cover themselves. Tentatively turning to his side, the taller pecked Shishido’s forehead lovingly, only to be answered with soft purr of contentment. Ootori smiled faintly before his arm found its way to his hair, stroking ever so gently.  Silently agreeing that heading to the bedroom was too much trouble, they closed their eyes and dozed off with the television still on.

Ootori decided that he could get used to Shishido nuzzling against his chest.


End file.
